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norman-fucking-reedus · 6 days

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BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫

SWEET LITTLE SINNER

THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink

DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM

OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀

Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO

So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible

This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3

Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)

southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe

"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.

Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.

"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.

As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.

Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.

After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.

As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.

"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.

Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.

"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.

Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."

The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."

"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.

"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.

You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.

"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.

Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.

"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."

Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.

"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.

"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.

Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.

"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."

It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.

As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.

Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.

He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.

It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.

Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.

You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.

Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.

He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.

Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.

"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.

You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"

He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"

“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.

Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.

“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”

The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.

“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.

The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.

“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.

You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.

It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.

Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.

He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.

"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.

You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.

Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"

"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.

He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"

"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.

They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."

Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."

"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.

You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.

Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"

"Good"

"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"

Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.

He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.

There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.

Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.

"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.

He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.

"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.

You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.

Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all

"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"

It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.

But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.

"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.

Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.

"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.

Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"

You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"

"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.

"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.

"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth

"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.

Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"

You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"

The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.

He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–

"Help!"

The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.

"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.

Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.

"Anyone, help! Help!"

As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.

There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.

Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.

You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.

He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.

"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.

The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.

A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.

Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.

"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'

The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"

At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"

Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"

"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.

"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.

Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.

Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.

"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.

Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."

"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.

"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.

"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.

"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.

Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.

He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.

"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?"

You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.

It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”

“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.

Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.

He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."

"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.

"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.

Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.

Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.

There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.

By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"

You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"

"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.

Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"

"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.

Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.

"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.

You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.

It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.

But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.

There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.

Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.

Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."

"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.

Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."

Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.

"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.

The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."

"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.

It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.

"You're coming with us."

The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.

"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."

Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."

"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.

You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.

He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."

"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."

"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.

Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."

"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.

The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.

It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.

Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.

It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.

Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.

"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.

Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"

"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.

The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"

You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"

Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"

"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.

He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"

You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."

"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.

You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.

"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"

Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"

"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"

"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"

"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"

At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.

"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.

"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.

You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"

"Steal anythin'?"

"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"

"Well, everyone's told a lie"

"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"

Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"

"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.

"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.

"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"

"How would ya' know?"

You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"

Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"

"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"

The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.

Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.

But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"

"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"

You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"

Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"

"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"

Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.

Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.

His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"

"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.

"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.

"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"

"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.

"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"

You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.

It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.

"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.

He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.

You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.

It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.

"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.

"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"

"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.

It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"

You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.

Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'

"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.

Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.

He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"

You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.

"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.

Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.

Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.

When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.

You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.

"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.

This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.

Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"

"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"

Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.

It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.

Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.

Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.

He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.

But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.

You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.

Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"

You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.

Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.

He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.

"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"

Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.

Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.

He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.

"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"

Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.

Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.

From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.

Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.

He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”

That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.

"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"

Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.

With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.

When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.

"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.

The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"

You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"

He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"

The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.

"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.

Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.

His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.

"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.

"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.

He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"

Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"

"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.

"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.

"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.

"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.

Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"

"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"

At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"

"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"

The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.

"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"

"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"

"Aren't we one righ' now?"

"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"

"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"

He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.

"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.

You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.

A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"

The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"

"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.

He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"

"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.

"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"

He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"

"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"

"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"

GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.

I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be

Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger

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unowneyenon · 11 months

Text

‼️UPDATING THE WELCOME HOME UPDATE LIST AGAIN‼️

i feel like i cant keep UP just SOOOO MANY PEOPLE ARE FINDINF INFO EXTREMELY FAST so by using my personal update list and the findings of others, here’s the update list, updated for the second time!

🏡BEFORE WE JUMP IN, i’d wish to highlight some weird things i personally experienced throughout the site🏡

more than one have i heard a sound while using my headphones that sounded like faint morse code.

i feel like i’ve heard a static/white noise on the site before

after exploring the “secret” version of the site, i thought i heard a heartbeat

one more thing that’s probably important! the company who made welcome home’s merchandise—Marlo— has a logo that looks like this

hmmm totally not suspicious using wally’s colors inside of an eye inside of a home silhouette!!

the morse code i am POSITIVE about. enough of that, onto the records and bug videos!

🐛the BUGS🐛

thanks to @underscore-duendie (for searching for hours i salute u solder 🫡) and @angel-lyah ‘s VERY useful masterlist, we now have what seems like a complete collection of all the bugs!! here are all of them, in order (as screenshots tho because tumblr dot com won’t let me post all the urls)

this is @underscore-duendie ‘s post!

🏡audios!🏡

@angel-lyah ‘s list covered this VERY well, even putting all of them together in a message👏👏👏 all of these audios have wally speaking directly to us. not sure if there’s more, but here’s what was found! (this is a screenshot btw i use tumblr on my phone)

angel also put them all together stacked on top of each other! it creates a whole conversation between us and wally! go check it out!

ALSO ALSO @gandalfsbongwater informed me that if you click on the red button on the phone of the “it’s for you” toy (the merch page) it leads you to wally’s duet audio!

@angel-lyah graciously covered this hidden secret too—the safe!

I EXPLORED I DISCOVERED ITS REALLY WEIRD AND IT LOOKS LIKE THIS (really bad screenshot edition)

there’s nothing to click on except the “it’s in here” button. at least, not that i know of. here are the images found on the site! (side note uhh what are those things in the background of the white screen?? like, next to the pictures?)

THERE ARE MORE IMAGES BUT ONCE AGAIN TUMBLR DOT COM ONLY LETS ME UPLOAD A CERTAIN AMOUNT. I WILL REBLOG THIS WITH THE REST OF THE IMAGES.

#welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #sally starlet #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank frankly #eddie dear #howdy pillar #poppy partridge

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seelestia · 8 days

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⟡ to set one's self aflame. (do it all for love.)

⎯ how protective are they of you? how do they protect you and how do they like being protected in return? { s for security ノordered by @phantovia! }

RESERVED FOR! ꒰ character ꒱. lyney ft. gn!reader. { 1.5k words wc }

FLAVOR! ꒰ genre ꒱. fluff & sprinkles of lore angst, established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ꒰ tags ꒱. lowkey a character study made poetic (???). mentions of self-destructive habits, also pls don't smile at lyney bcs he's weak in the knees for u.

BAKER’S NOTE! ꒰ thoughts ꒱. thanks for the req, yona! i got to appreciate this silly guy all over again thanks to u ‹3 ik ur acc is already archived so i hope this made for a nice tribute. pls take care of urself & have a good life ahead 🫂

lyney is protective to a concerning extent. the instinct of an older brother, maybe?

there is some sort of irony to be found in it all since the reason he protects to a 'concerning' extent is out of concern in the first place.

behind his show of brilliance, you consider yourself lucky enough to have witnessed a side to lyney that his audience wouldn't have guessed; that he is a worrier in every aspect of the word. whether for his family, for you, for his friends or for others he comes across that are plagued by misfortune - if all that worry were to come in the shape of dimes, he'd already have an abundance of them to share with the entire nation of fontaine.

but he has no choice, does he?

his background is not a clean slate nor is it a display of sunshine and rainbows resembling his magic shows. lyney's hands are tainted, covered by his gloves as a measly means of self-solace. he has to worry. associating himself deeply and intimately with another is a risk on its own - comparable to dragging someone else down into the murkier depths with him. he can never do that, never has the courage nor the heart to.

(but fortunately for him, you've always been braver than most.)

. . .isn't that why you offered your hand, your trust to him first? he swore to never let you down from that day on.

easier said than done, however.

the house of the hearth operates within the shadows but as for its foes? some also prefer to dwell in the dark and some move in broad daylight. no matter what it is, they all require the same precaution: for him to keep his guard up at all times. every child has been trained by “father” to know that but you're an innocent, tied to this precarious matter merely due to your connection with him.

(“i don't regret anything,” you told him but he didn't look into your eyes, conflicted. you couldn't tell if he believed you or not.)

how was your day? have you eaten? you look sad, did something happen? — all these little questions are a way for him to show that he cares, that you're important, that you're his responsibility and he'll be there for you.

bound by both guilt and love, lyney promises to keep you safe. from whatever kinds of threats there are; whether it be fools with nefarious schemes or even an insect you're too scared to touch, he'll keep you safe all the same. so please, don't hide from him if you're dealing with something. it's better to let him handle it. . . right, correction: the two of you can handle it together.

(truly, his desire to protect can both be his greatest strength and most formidable foe.)

the way lyney protects is through self-sacrifice, granting peace in exchange for destruction of the self.

since the very beginning, lyney has grown used to seeing the world through the lens of a protector.

he recalls the old times where he and lynette loitered the streets in ragged clothes and the only refuge he could provide her with was his hand. it mattered not if he was freezing cold from the rain. . . as long as his little sister was protected, comforted by whatever warmth he had left - it's alright. to do that wasn't an option then, it was a necessity.

to sacrifice himself is a habit. it's easy to adopt but not at all easy to discard.

in lyney's eyes, burdens often seem as if they would be lighter upon his shoulders than they are on another's - but this is only wishful thinking. only meant to convince himself that pain shall eventually lose its harsh bite the more he bears it. “well, has it?” if asked, he cannot give an answer. regardless, that alone is enough of a justification for him because he can't bear the thought of doing anything else; to stand idly by, to be utterly useless.

if he has the means to protect others, why wouldn't he do so? even if he wears himself down to the bone, he’d do it again. akin to a bright flame lit in a hearth, lyney envelopes those near him in a blanket of warmth - and if the blaze threatens to flicker, he'd simply ignite a piece of himself to prevent it from diminishing into futile cinders. he won't let it happen.

(but little does he know that even cinders still serve a purpose. they exist as proof, a sign that his sacrifice has never been in vain.)

in return, lyney feels protected by simply knowing that you're happy (and your acknowledgement of his efforts).

let's call it an innate principle that belongs to a magician; he wants to see smiles on the faces of others. “a smile weighs much lighter for your face to carry compared to a frown, no?” he joked to you once, tapping gently on the corner of his lips with a grin. it was said with a light heart, but you knew he meant it deep down.

(he always does so much, only to ask for so little in return.)

you were not so cruel that you couldn't even grant him that, so you smiled. genuine and grateful. “. . .thank you, lyney,” you said. he fell quiet then. had the wind been knocked out of his lungs or had the world stopped spinning? he thought he saw stars in your eyes, but that couldn't possibly be true. the sun glaring down at him from behind the clouds above remained unmoved.

not like it mattered, anyway. his poor heart was far too occupied with you to care about the answer. “o-oh? you're welcome. . .” lyney blinked, multiple times, dazedly.

gratitude is not a foreign concept to him; he often receives it from an audience member, a lonely elder he briefly chatted with, a fellow member from the house of the hearth — so, just what makes it different now? perhaps, it's because he knows that you've beared witness to his heart that lies deeper within.

that you see right through him, that you're thanking him for who he truly is, although he no longer has a definite image of “self” from the countless white lies piling at his feet like a tower. yet he finds comfort in it, in the way you hold his sullied hands so kindly. he isn't wearing gloves this time. strange, lyney had never imagined transparency to be a feeling so benevolent and cathartic.

no matter what thoughts are buzzing in his head or what ache tugs on his body, they can pester him as much as they'd like - with one swift recall of your smile, lyney feels as if he can banish them even if momentarily. they'll come back sooner or later, he knows, but is it cowardly of him to find solace in that brief respite?

when lynette taps on his cheek to wake him up in the morning, when freminet knocks on his door to deliver something, when other siblings flock around him to welcome him home, or when you come to visit him after a long day — those worries disappear — but even if he already knows that they will make their inevitable return. . . perhaps, everything will be okay.

(it has to be, he tells himself.)

“did something happen yesterday?”

your lunch with a certain feline girl in front of hotel bouffes d'ete kickstarts with a simple question. but the abruptness of it all wipes away the content look on your face and replaces it with a frown.

the tea in your cup reflects your reflection as much as it does your perplexity. lynette lifts her own teacup to her lips, composed while you're lost in thought, confused.

“lyney went home with a wide smile on his face yesterday,” she elaborates, humming either at the tea or at the current matter she's recalling. perhaps, even both but you aren't sure yet. “while this wouldn't be an odd occurrence, i thought there must've been a special occasion to warrant a smile that wide.”

ah. the realization dawns on you in gentle waves. he said something that prompted a smile out of you yesterday — the exchange of a kind “thank you” from your side and a flustered “you're welcome” from his — not that smiling is a rarity around him, hardly, the one thing magicians do best is attract smiles.

your gaze drifts down to stare at nothing in particular. fond memories filled with the face of a familiar magician swims before your eyes. “hm. . . it must've meant a lot more to him than i expected,” you mumble to yourself. in your eyes, you'd think the look on your face represents the paradigm of nostalgia but in lynette's eyes, you look like a madman smiling to yourself so intensely.

“not you too,” she lets out a resigned sigh, placing down her teacup. “smiling to yourself like that. . .” she shakes her head in a disappointed manner, “you and lyney must've been rubbing off on each other these days.”

“maybe a bit too much,” lynette adds, but there is a ghost of a smile on her face this time around.

you can only smile sheepishly.

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

#genshin x reader #lyney x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin hcs #genshin impact hcs #genshin x you #seelestial.inks #reveriesincups

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

Text

Why the fight for queer rights isn't over (it should be obvious, but to some people it isn't)

TW: transphobia and homophobia

Hi, Tumblr, this is Asmi. If you know me, it's probably as the Good Omens Mascot, which is flattering. I've found so much love and queer positivity in the good omens fandom, and the beautiful thing is how it's canon. Many people outside the queer community don't realise how crucial media and communities like this are. Right now since I'm on break from education, I'm on tumblr for most of the time I'm awake (which is not a lot, I nap more than Crowley). It's wild how different it is from the real world, that I live in at least.

I'm sure a lot of you might have had a similar experience to this: Basically, two people in my life, my bio father and my ex, both told me to my face that queer people needed to stop calling themselves oppressed and how now it's queer people who hold all the power and are oppressing other people. With all due respect, what the fuck.

I live in India, and being a trans guy who is bi and aspec, it's a cesspit. While I'm gendered correctly on Tumblr, and people are so loving and supportive, in real life even my friends who say they support me misgender me 90% of the time. Same with my family. In my previous college which I had to leave because of bullying by both the students and admin, even the queer students would misgender me (I told them I used they/them pronouns, because he/him would have been too unsafe, but even that they didn't manage). In the college I'll join next, it won't be safe for me to be out at all, at risk of losing opportunities and safety. Gay marriage is still illegal. Homophobia and transphobia is the norm. This doesn't even cover all the daily indignities like queerphobic jokes, casual discourse on whether or not we deserve rights, etc. Discrimination against aroace-spec people is rampant even within the queer community, worldwide.

And I live in an urban area, one of the largest cities in India known for its progressiveness and for being relatively safe for queer people. I am privileged compared to other queer people here. The story in other cities, in rural areas which make up most of the country, is far more horrifying. I'm unqualified to speak about anything other than my own experience, but if you can (if you are in a stable and calm enough mental state to handle the information, please put your mental health first) I'm sure there are first person accounts on the many forums.

The fight for equality is not over. It doesn't end with laws riddled with loopholes, it doesn't end even with laws that genuinely help the queer community. Aside from the huge problems of living safely and with access to equal opportunities and resources for people, we deserve dignity, peace, and the right to feel accepted and that we're not an abnormality. And so much more.

I haven't said anything that hasn't been said before, but it can't be said enough. To the queer people reading this, take all my love. We need to stand together, eliminate discourse over who is queer enough to be queer, and be the safe space that the world will not provide for us.

It's not over, and it hasn't been won by a long shot, but what matters is that we're fighting. Even existing as ourselves in a world that tells us it is a crime, is defiance and a step towards making this right.

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griffin-girl-r · 7 months

Note

Blackhill requests you say? Dw I got you covered!

Natasha and Maria are both happily married with an 8 year old daughter (r) when r’s dad enters the picture (r was conceived in the red room so he’s a bad guy who Nat had a one night stand with at some point idk)

She's mine

Created: 11.11.2023

Finished: 16.11.2023

Edited: 17.11.2023

Age: 8

Word count: 2,935

Warnings: Homophobia , Mentions of sexual assult , Abandonment , Misogyny

Anymore let me know

Request: Yes (Tumblr user) (@ravensinthedaylight)

Pairings: BlackHill, Natasha Romanoff x Lev Ilyin (Original!Evil!Character) (Past mention)

—

Natasha and Maria were quietly sitting on the couch in their living room, snuggled closer to each other as their 8-year-old daughter, Y/N, was sandwiched in between the two women.

'Lilo and Stitch', Y/N's favorite movie was playing on the TV and their little girl was absolutely fascinated about everything that was happening in it as if she wasn't seeing this movie for the millionth time.

Natasha had to buy 40 new DVDs with the movie, in the last 7 years since its release, because Y/N watched them so often that they quickly got scratched and, therefore, almost useless.

Natasha could only blame her wife for introducing their daughter to this movie.

Now, truth be told, Maria wasn't actually the other biological parent of Y/N.

Years ago, when Natasha was still a young mere prisoner of her own life, she was forced by the organization that had taken care of her training to have intimate relationships with a man she didn't even know.

More of like, being offered against her own will by the Red Room to one of their men but that is all in the past.

She was ready to keep living with everything that happened to her as long as the only good thing that came out of everything, her daughter, was by her side.

A knock at the front door interrupted Y/N's innocent giggles and the little family looked confused towards the door.

Who could be at the door at this late hour?

"I'm coming!" Maria shouted, carefully moving Y/N's sleepy body, who was using Maria as a pillow, away

"I'll get it." Natasha quickly placed her hand on Maria's arm, stopping her

Maria looked at Natasha for a second and the agent wanted to protest but the reassuring smile the redhead was wearing was too tempting.

"As you wish, my love." Maria smiled back

"I'll be quick." Natasha quickly peaked her wife's lips, then stood up, making her way towards the front door

—

Natasha opened the front door, unaware of the darkness that was lurking just on the other side of it.

A sickening smirk formed on the face of the man who was standing just in front of the red-headed woman.

"Hello, Natalia." He said "Long time no see. Did you miss me?"

Natasha froze in place for a moment as she took in the sight of the man she never thought she would see again.

Memories of a long-forgotten time had resurfaced in her mind.

She shook her head "No..." Natasha whispered "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you know..." The man began "I came to take back what's mine."

Natasha looked at the man, her eyes widening in shock.

"You are not going to take my daughter away from me!" She protectively declared

"Our daughter, my darling." The man corrected her "Oh, and what makes you think that I'm here just for our daughter?" He chuckled "I am here for you as well, Natalia. You are mine just as much as our daughter is." He stated as a matter of factly "How is she, by the way?"

The man took a step forward, walking uninvited inside Natasha's home, and looked around.

"I bet she grew up a lot in the time I haven't seen her." He added when Natasha hesitated to answer his question

"Leave her alone, Lev." Natasha raised her voice "She's innocent. She doesn't have anything to do with all this madness. I thought you were busy planning the world's dominance. How come you have come for us after all this time? How come that HYDRA let you leave their safe prison."

"How?" Lev chuckled "I was never a prisoner at HYDRA, to begin with, unlike you. I am one of their highest-ranked agents. Why do you think they offered you to me out of all people?" He explained "Now I am here to claim what's mine. And this time, neither you nor our little girl will run away. I will find you anywhere."

Anger raised inside of Natasha just as much as fear built inside her.

She couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't believe that after all this time, the man who hurt her and took advantage of her body was here to claim something he never took part in.

More specifically, in the raising of Y/N, which he had no right over.

"Just leave us alone." Natasha shouted

"You wish!" Lev laughed sadistically

From inside the living room, Maria's ears picked up on the raising tone of her wife's voice, and her instincts kicked in, telling her to go and check what was happening.

"Stay here, baby." Maria kissed your head "Mom is gonna go and quickly check if Mama is okay out there and see who is at the door."

"Okay, Mom." You replied distracted as your attention was fully focused on the movie

Maria stood up and with one last ruffle of your hair, she made her way towards the front door.

"Honey?" Maria called Natasha confused, as she took in the sight of the unknown man sitting in front of her wife "Are you okay? Who's is he?" She pointed to the man "Were you expecting someone?"

"So this is that so-called wife of yours I've heard about." The man smiled "Well it's nice to meet my replacement but we have to leave, Natalia."

Maria looked confused between Natasha and the man for a second.

"What do you mean you have to leave?" Maria asked "Babe?" She turned her head towards Natasha, waiting for her answer

Natasha looked up from the floor, directly into Maria's eyes and the brunette could see the tears that were present in her wife's eyes, causing Maria's instincts to heighten immediately as a surge of protectiveness overflowed her senses.

When Natasha begged Maria to help her just with one look, Maria pushed Natasha behind her with a swift move.

"I don't know who you are." Maria said, her muscles tensing "But I'll have to ask you to leave. Nicely." Se ordered the man through gritted teeth

"You have no right to tell me to leave." The man laughed "I am here to claim what's mine and you, weak woman, will never be able to make me leave."

Just then, Maria's brain clicked on what was happening and she understood who the man that was standing in front of her was.

"You monster." Maria whispered angrily "I know exactly who you are."

"Well..." The man raised his arms, proud of who he was "It took you some time to figure that out." He sang "I expected you to be smarter than this."

"This is the last time I am asking you nicely to leave this house. That unless you want to have some serious problems." Maria said once again

"Oh, come on." The man chuckled sarcastically "You don't expect me to be afraid of a woman and especially of you, don't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say the same thing if I were you." Maria tilted her head "I am ready to do anything to protect my family."

"Your family?!" The man shouted "They're mine! I am going to take my belongings and leave."

"They are staying here." Maria protested "You don't even know how my daughter is named, let alone have any right over her. I raised her ever since she was a five-month-old baby. I was the one who changed her diapers, checked for any monsters under her bed, and loved her, not you." She hissed "And the same goes for my wife. She's mine for a reason."

From the corner of her eye, Maria saw some movement right behind her, and she saw the man's smirk growing wider.

"Aha, my sweet girl!" The man cheerfully exclaimed "I finally came home. Are you excited to see me?"

Y/N silently peeked at the man from behind her moms.

"Mama?" You called shyly "Who's that?" You pointed towards the man

"No one, baby." Natasha quickly tried to make you leave "Just go back to the movie, okay? Me and Mom will be there very soon."

"Mom?" Lev raised his eyebrow "There is no such thing as another mom. I am your other parent, sweetheart." The man tried to tempt you in a sweet tone "I came here so you could have a normal family. I am your Dad." He declared

"Dad?" You asked confused, looking up towards Natasha "I have no dad. I have Mama and Mom. I already have two parents."

"Well, your parents must be a mom and a dad, not two moms." Lev tried to turn you against your mothers

"But, I love my moms." You innocently declared "They love me and we're always having fun. And Mom always carries me on her shoulders and buys me ice cream, while Mama reads me bedtime stories and gives me the best hugs in the world."

But just before you got to finish your sentence, the man snatched you away by your arm and forcefully held you in place.

You let out a terrified scream as tears quickly made their way down your cheeks.

"Mama!" You screamed out in fear, begging Natasha to help you

"Leave her alone!" Natasha screamed as she tried to grab you back from the men, but she didn't manage to "My baby!"

"Leave my child alone!" Maria threatened "That's my daughter you're holding there. You just don't get it."

"These two girls are mine! And she's coming with me." He pointed towards you

"She's mine!" Maria shouted as she grabbed your other arm quickly and pulled you towards her with all her force, causing the man to loosen his grip on you "They are both mine!" Maria declared as she quickly shoved you behind her to shield you from anything, just as she has done with Natasha "I don't know what's the reason behind your actions and what your evil plan is, but you must leave right now!"

Lev, in a fraction of a second, lifted his arm and punched Maria in the face.

Natasha let out a horrified gasp, her hands instinctively flying to her mouth to cover it in order to muffle any sound.

"Mom!" You screamed, afraid that your mom was badly hurt

"It's okay, kid. Mom is okay." Maria reassured you as she looked towards the man "So, you want to fight?" She nodded, taking a deep breath "Alright then, that's what you'll get."

And just like that, Maria delivered a punch back towards the man and a fight started.

Natasha wanted to help her wife, but she also knew that you needed protection and reassurance as she took two steps backward, shielding you with her body.

Kicks and punches were thrown around from both sides and just as the fight was getting more violent, a blowing sound was heard and the door of their house was slammed open.

"S.H.I.E.L.D., get down!" A deep voice shouted as agents armed with weapons burst inside their home

—

"This won't end like this!" Lev shouted as he tried to fight his restraints, just as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents escorted him away

"We'll see about that, Lev Ilyin!" Maria shouted behind him before she quickly turned her attention back to her wife and daughter "You're okay." She said in a rushed but reassuring voice "Everything is okay now, my sweethearts." The brunette woman pulled you and your mama in her arms "No one's ever gonna be able to take you away from me, I'm here and I will always protect you, you both are mine and no one else's."

Your small whimpers broke both Maria and Natasha's hearts.

Natasha held you tightly in her arms "It's okay, baby, it's okay. You're okay." Natasha kissed the top of your head and you hid your face in her stomach

Your cries slowly turned into quiet sniffs as you basked in the protection you felt from both your mothers as Maria protectively held you and Natasha closer to her.

"You're both okay." Maria whispered "We're all okay."

Natasha raised her head and looked at her wife's face, a gasp escaping the redhead's lips.

"Masha, you're hurt!" Natasha worriedly looked at Maria's bruised face and raised her hand to touch her wife's cheek

Maria tenderly grabbed Natasha's hand, stopping her from touching her cheek.

"It's okay, my love." Maria reassured "It's nothing. I just need a little bit of care from you and our little princess and I'll be all healed in no time."

"I'm sorry." Natasha whispered on the verge of crying "I never expected to see him again."

"None of that!" Maria sternly declared "You have no fault in this. Okay?"

"But Maria..." Natasha began before sighing when she saw the look on Maria's face and the spy changed the subject "How did the agents show up just on time?"

"Well, I kind of activated the alarm I have on my bracelet and they were alerted when I realized who Lev was." Maria shrugged her shoulders as if it wasn't such a big deal

"You sneaky agent." Natasha chuckled, a gleam of proudness shining in her eyes

"Well, what can I say?" Maria tried to sniffle her laughter "I am prepared for any situation."

But just as they hugged again, the sweet moment of the small family of three was interrupted by Nick Fury, who walked inside the room holding a file in his hand.

"Agent Hill. Agent Romanoff." He nodded, greeting the women "I want to thank you for catching one of the most wanted criminals on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s list.

"Well, you know..." Maria turned annoyed towards Fury, angry that he disturbed their moment "He kind of messed up with my family. I had to do something about it."

"As a thanks, I have a very special mission for you both." Fury stated "I need your help and you have just proven to me that you're both fit for this mission."

Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes "I knew there was something about you showing up here, Nick, not just because of Lev Ilyin."

"You know me, Agent Romanoff." He stated unimpressed, extending his hand towards them, offering them the file "Ilyin is just another trophy to our collection."

The couple grabbed the file from his hand and Natasha opened it, looking at the name of their next target that was written on the first page with big, bold letters.

"Tony Stark?" Maria asked confused "Isn't he that annoying, reckless man who thinks he's smart just because he has money and who wears sunglasses at parties that take place at night?"

"You couldn't have described Stark better, Agent Hill." Fury nodded "That's why I need Agent Romanoff to infiltrate inside his company. You have all the information there. You're getting a new alias and your mission is to protect him as danger is too close to him right now. We need to take action or the next events will have a turn for the worst if we don't intervene in this." He explained before adding "For the whole globe, not just for Stark."

"Consider it done." Natasha nodded, accepting the mission

"I promise you both, you won't regret helping with this mission." Fury looked in between the two women

"We hope we won't, Sir." Maria squinted her eyes

And just like that, Fury turned around and left without adding any other word.

Maria peeked at the page where all the details about Natasha's new identity were and quickly scanned the page with her eyes, reading the important details.

"Well, I see he didn't think too much about a new name." Maria said teasingly "Come on! Natalie Rushman? He could do better than that. And you were supposed to be a model?" She chuckled "No way!"

"Oh, shut up." Natasha playfully smacked Maria's arm "Let's just leave the mission for another time, okay? I have enough time later to study this role."

"All right, Miss Rushman." Maria laughed, wrapping her arms around Natasha's shoulders while taking a gentle hold of Y/N's small hand "I think we had a movie to watch."

"Stitch!" You cheered excitedly

"Yeah, baby, Stitch!" Natasha lovingly smiled down at you as you all made your way back to the living room

—

That night, Maria lay awake in the bed she and her wife shared.

Natasha and their daughter were sound asleep as today's events drained them out of energy.

The brunette agent turned on her side with a sigh and scanned the faces of her two loves in the darkness.

"No one will ever be able to take you away from me." Maria whispered "I promise you both that we will forever be a family regardless of our past or of what other people might think about us."

Maria slowly leaned closer and kissed your cheek.

"You're so loved, Y/N." The brunette whispered in your ear "And so are you, Tasha." She also pressed a gentle kiss against Natasha's cheek "You're my blessings and I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have you both."

What happened today, helped not only Natasha and Maria, but also you, to realize how lucky you were to have each other and on how much love your small family was actually built on.

Maria vowed to fight until her last breath, just so she could keep you and Natasha safe, as her love for her girls knew no bounds.

And just as Stitch has said.

'Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.'

And a true family is built on love, not blood.

—

Permanent taglist: @lizlil , @mmmmokdok , @natsxwife , @lovelyy-moonlight , @observeowl , @froufrousnowman , @youralphawolf72 , @halstead-severide-fan , @daggersquadphantom , @circe143 , @ravensinthedaylight , @darkstar225 , @dannipotatoo , @justarandomreaderxoxo , @theunchosenonee , @cherlenovix

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader #blackhill #maria hill x daughter #maria hill x daughter!reader #maria hill

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thefreakandthehair · 7 months

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 31st: Scary movie night | Vampires Will Never Hurt You - My Chemical Romance | Protective a/n: this one is a continuation from day 18's prompt! but it can absolutely be read separately! read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

It’s not like Eddie hasn’t had more than his fill of regrettable Open Mouth, Insert Foot moments in his life. He’s had plenty, a whole buffet of them in fact, but this might be the most humiliating one yet.

As if being home on the best night of the year nursing wounds from actual monsters isn’t painful enough, he’s just learned that his tolerance for weed has decreased substantially from his baseline back in March.

Enough so that as he and Steve, a new and surprising friend he desperately wants to be more, sit on his couch and watch A Nightmare On Elm Street, Eddie finds himself telling Steve truths he hasn’t told anyone yet.

Truths he hasn’t wanted to say aloud because that makes them truths, the same way that Freddy Krueger makes nightmares and dreams become real.

Much like the fabled veil between worlds, the veil between Eddie’s brain and mouth is at its thinnest.

“— and it just fucking sucks, dude. I’ve loved these movies my whole life! And now I can’t even enjoy them, I just look at these slasher scenes and see like, my actual life? I’ve been the slasher victim now and it’s not fun, and I want it to be because I love horror movies and now that’s just one more thing the Upside Down’s taking from me—”

“We can change the movie if you want. Seriously, I don’t mind, man,” Steve tries to interrupt, running a soothing hand up and down Eddie’s arm, his eyes concerned as he strokes from wrist to elbow with far more gentility than Eddie’s used to. Or, maybe, feels he deserves.

Steve’s words fall on deaf ears because Eddie’s on a rampage now, trying his best to breathe but Glen’s bed erupts on the screen, a geyser of blood sprouting from sheets to ceiling and Eddie just can't take it anymore.

“Like that! God, I’ve lost that much blood! You, you had to carry me out of some bizzaro Freddy Krueger world covered in that much blood, and that’s not fair, right? We should be out at some party, you shotgunning a beer and me slinging wares and instead, we’re,” Eddie gestures vaguely towards the trailer living room. “Here.”

He takes a breath and winces at the way deep inhales still pull at his side.

That’s when Eddie realizes Steve’s holding his hand.

Their fingers are intertwined, just like their destinies were maybe always meant to be. He has more things to say, more thoughts, but they die on his tongue as he looks down at the small gesture tethering him to the couch.

“Listen to me. What happened wasn’t fair, sure, but you did the best you could to keep Dustin safe and I don’t regret carrying you outta there for a fucking second.” Steve squeezes his hand. “Let’s just pick a different movie— maybe one with less like, blood and alternate dimensions— and if it makes you feel any better, I’ll shotgun a beer to make the Harrington Halloween experience authentic.”

He turns and stares at Steve, into those huge eyes he’s only recently determined are hazel more than brown as he smiles back at Eddie, warily and crooked.

And in that moment, he believes him. He does.

“Deal.”

Steve pops in Ferris Bueller and does, indeed, shotgun a beer much to Eddie’s glee.

The night wears on and Eddie ends up with his head in Steve’s lap, soaking in the feeling of Steve’s hand in his hair, his nails on his scalp. The sensation lulls him further into oblivion.

“What if I came out like, a vampire or something? Would you still wanna be friends?” Eddie asks, the latest in a string of questions Steve’s handled with finesse and the occasional snark. He’s still Steve, after all.

“Look, after everything I’ve seen, vampires are the least of my worries. Sure, bring it on.”

“Even if I tried to drink your blood?”

He’s teasing, but Steve looks at him with something heavy he can’t name.

“Yeah, even then.”

Silence beats on for a moment afterwards, the air shifting around them.

“Y’know,” Eddie whispers for no reason. There’s nothing but Steve and silence beside him, but he doesn't want to disturb the atmosphere. “I’m actually kinda glad we ended up here instead of some shitty party. Wish I coulda made it with both nipples in tact, don’t get me wrong, but… yeah. I’m glad.”

Bright teeth and glossy eyes gaze down at him, better than any Halloween decor or party lights could ever hope to be. Steve brushes the hair back from Eddie’s forehead and lets his other hand, large and warm, rest just above Eddie’s beating heart.

“Me, too.”

tagging a few people who expressed interest in the follow up: @griefabyss69 @vecnuthy @starryeyedjanai @nostalgicbones @vampeddie

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie month prompts #myblurbs #please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! <3333 #we did it #friends! 31 ficlets and blurbs for eddie month!

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twig-tea · 3 months

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TsukuTabe S2 Is Perfection

I’ve been waffling about what to write about Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna s2, which completed last week (and which we have access to at all thanks to the hard work of @furritsubs). I have had to just give up on getting across how much this show means to me; there's no way I'll be able to communicate these feelings with words. Season 1 was excellent but Season 2 was everything I wanted and more that I didn't know I needed. This is going to be more disjointed than usual because I don't know how to be coherent about this show (and because tumblr ate my first two attempts).

At its core, Tsukuritai Onna to Tabtetai Onna asks what if we were all just a little bit more conscientious and kind to one another? What if women were given space to be themselves and to make the choices that were best for them? This is the world of TsukuTabe, and I'm so grateful to have had the chance to inhabit it over these last four weeks.

I have so much love for the way Nomoto and Kasuga develop their relationship in conjunction with their relationships with the other women in their lives. Nagumo, Sayama, and Yako are integral to the success of Nomoto and Kasuga’s relationship, and they're also important relationships for the happiness of Nomoto and Kasuga in their own right. The found family vibes are immaculate.

The conflict between Kasuga and Nomoto this season was so perfectly them; the way they struggled with the transition from friends to lovers and being two people who are kind and giving in a relationship together and how that requires honesty and trust were both familiar conflicts that hit me hard in the feels.

Kasuga's conflict with her family also hit me really hard. I once did the wrong thing and showed up to support my family in caring for someone who abused me, and it was a horrible experience that was ruinous to my mental health and took years to get over (and in the end they had to find a different solution anyway, which they could have done in the first place). Watching Kasuga refuse to make a similar decision, standing strong in the face of the social pressures of her parents and her aunt was so healing for me. And then to have her decision affirmed by someone of her parent's age? I sobbed in those scenes.

I also loved the way this season handled Nagumo’s anxiety issues and how she was given space to decide to get professional help on her own time and terms. The way her parents tried to help was also very familiar to me and realistic, and it was just a little heartbreaking how they tried and didn't understand how their attempts at helping added pressure in a way that wasn't helpful.

The way this show covers this important beats in a person's life through these small, everyday moments, and in such a gentle way, is what I love so much about it. The show itself makes a safe space so that these subjects can come up and not feel overwhelming.

And it's also really important to me that all of the characters get to have these moments. Sakae not only reflects on her insensitivity and the unfairness of Japan not having marriage equality, but she also reflects on the pressures on her to marry and whether she actually wants that for herself. Fujita not only helps Kasuga gain proxy acceptance for her choices but gets the same back for herself around her decision to divorce. All of these women live in ways that invoke social stigma, and the way this show gives explicit permission to these women to live their best lives is both cathartic and critical.

I can't end this disjointed ramble without talking about the character I most identified with this season, Yako. Yako is an older, self-actualized asexual lesbian who makes friends with Nomoto on the Internet, recommends lesbian films to her, and mostly listens and affirms as Nomoto goes through her own process of discovering herself. I ran a GSA and have been on the Internet a long time, I've been in Yako’s position a lot (though I can only aspire to be as kind and wise). She is so patient and so genuinely happy for Nomoto when she and Kasuga get together, and she seems so quietly thrilled to have more wonderful people in her life willing to indulge her random party ideas. Her sharing a connection to a LGBTQ+-friendly real estate agency while being angry on their behalf that she even has to was perfection.

It's so important that these characters say the things they say aloud. I want to inscribe every sentence of this show into everyone's brains. This show is perfect, and lovely, and a warm bath, and a hug, and a cup of your favourite warm beverage perfectly fixed to your liking all in one. If you haven't done yourself the favour of watching yet, I highly recommend that you do so immediately.

[not an ID: Real footage of the entire audience's satisfaction and catharsis after watching TsukuTabe S2. Actual ID in alt text].

#tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #tsukutabe #gl meta #sapphic media #typed so that I can stop thinking it

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tiddygame · 3 months

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You give me goose bumps

(repost because Tumblr was being Funky on my end-- sorry!)

Ao3

Summary: Ghost sat there, trying to figure out how in the hell he had gotten himself into this situation: Lying on the floor of the safe house with a massive werewolf using him as a teddy bear. Honestly, the sequence of events wasn’t too complicated.

Tw: violence, nightmares, and a smidgen panic

It was a few days before a full moon and Ghost and Soap were on a simple, low-stakes mission. All they needed to do was find some flash drive in a building that had been abandoned. Ghost really didn’t even need to watch soap from his vantage point.

The mission was intentionally simple. Having a task force composed almost entirely of monsters did have its downsides. Every full moon, one of those disadvantages reared its ugly head.

In general, when it came to the werewolf side of things, Soap had a pretty good grasp on staying in control and not involuntarily shifting or going berserk. The amount of control he had over both forms was honestly impressive.

Full moons were a different story. In the days leading up to them, instincts always got a bit harder to defy and shifting at will would sometimes go out the window entirely. It’s why they were here, at an abandoned building. A low-energy mission to not trigger a shift, but something that needed to be done and a good outlet for pent-up energy at the very least.

Ghost watched from his perch outside as Soap methodically searched the building, occasionally catching glimpses of him through windows. Soap didn’t need his help, he was just watching the exits, making sure no one went in or out. That didn’t stop Soap from complaining to him the entire time.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Is that your official assessment, sergeant?”

“Oh piss off, you’re outside in the middle of the day. I’m in this creepy shithole looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Focus, Mactavish.”

“I am! You might be different, but I can talk while doing something.”

Ghost didn’t grace that with a response.

“Any clue why they vacated?”

“Negative,” he tried not to think about how if it had been anyone else, he would’ve chewed them out for unprofessionalism three comments ago.

“They left in a hurry, some poor sod didn’t even finish his coffee,” it was said in a joking tone but Ghost could hear the genuine unease behind it.

“Just find the flash drive and get out. Sooner you’re done, the sooner we can leave,” he replied not unkindly, he might enjoy teasing the man but that didn’t mean he didn’t trust his instincts. If Soap felt like something was wrong, he’d take his word on it.

Ghost repositioned slightly, watching the floor Soap was on, looking in the windows through the scope. He was barely able to see his sergeant, just in view of the window. He saw when Soap stopped in the middle of the room, and turned in a circle, definitely looking for something but not a flash drive.

“Soap, sitrep. What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong,” he’d never seen his sergeant so spooked. He wanted to be angry, wanted to use his lieutenant voice to tell Soap to get a move on, but he couldn’t ignore the dread that was overwhelming him as well.

“Ghost, I don’t think we’re alone here,” well fucking Christ, did he have to say it as creepily as possible?

“Johnny—?” he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, whether to tell him to continue or to cut and run, but it didn’t matter. It took him a few moments to realize that the windows were slowly being covered by a black fog. He could see the wisps of smoke curling towards Johnny.

Soap noticed it too, “For fuck’s sake, I hate dealing with wraiths.”

Soap wasn’t too concerned, but Ghost was. He quickly abandoned his perch and booked it for the building. There wasn’t much a sniper could do against a cloud of smoke.

“I’m on my way, don’t die,” he hoped it went through but the way the radio was crackling didn’t fill him with hope.

“Aff—m—ve,” he was barely able to hear what he said, the radio now spewing a high-pitched ringing as if his tinnitus wasn’t already bad enough. He had to agree with Soap’s earlier comment, he hated dealing with wraiths.

If he didn’t already know the right floor, the unmistakable growl of a pissed wolf and loud crashes would have been a dead giveaway. He climbed through the stairwell as fast as he could. He burst through the door to the fourth floor, the open office space giving him a clear view of the confrontation.

His sergeant, obviously having shifted, in the corner, growling with his teeth bared. In front of him, a wraith stalking him, trying to find a weak point. It looked at him, deciding that between the two, Ghost would be the easier victim.

Ghost felt deep within him when the thing turned Its full attention to him. Wraiths were born of pure misery, torture, and dread, and they were intent on making everyone else suffer an even worse fate than they did. (For several, several years Ghost was convinced he was doomed to become one too, until a certain Scotsman entered his life, at least.) This one was strong, as It stared at him, he could feel all his happy memories turn necrotic.

The two of them stalked towards the other, Ghost’s boots stomping heavily on the ground and the wraith imitating him despite Its floating. It lunged, only becoming tangible when Its hands wrapped around his throat, trying to cut off his airway. As utter dread washed over him, he stabbed at the thing but it turned back to smoke before it could connect. They had entered a fatal tango, though It seemed to have forgotten that there was another involved.

With the wraith distracted, Soap pounced. The tricky thing with fighting wraiths was their ability to become intangible at will. Standard protocol for dealing with one involved lengthy planning and strategizing, wearing them out before—

Oh, good god, It was already dead.

Soap ripped the thing apart in the same way a dog would its favorite chew toy. He had the thing’s neck between his teeth and was shaking It back and forth, the wraith trying to claw at his snout. It was clinging to life until the final tendons gave way and Its body dropped with a heavy thud. Ghost couldn’t find it within himself to feel bad for the thing.

While Its body was now detached from Its neck, Soap still wasn’t done. He put one paw on the thing's head and kept going, not stopping until the wraith had been separated into three parts.

Soap grabbed the throat and happily trotted to Ghost, wanting him to put his hand out.

Uncomprehendingly, he did. Soap dropped it in his hand and barked, his tail excitedly wagging away.

He realized as it was nudged towards him that it was a gift. Soap had gifted him the throat of the creature that tried to kill him. He really couldn’t tell if that meant he was lost in his instincts or if it was Soap being Soap.

“Thanks,” he was touched either way.

The werewolf barked and spun in a circle, having too much energy for such a large thing in such a small space.

“Let’s find that flash drive and get out of here,” Ghost had to fight to keep the baby talk tone he normally used when talking to dogs out of his voice. Werewolves weren’t domesticated dogs and it was beyond rude to treat them as such, regardless of which form they were in or how far in their instincts they were. Still, Ghost couldn’t help but compare the way Soap was jumping around to that of a puppy that didn’t know its size. He was far from an expert in them but he knew Soap was rather large for a werewolf; it was a miracle he fit through the hallways.

They went on to clear the building, eventually finding what they were after a few floors above where the wraith had attacked. Ghost still didn’t know what to do with the esophagus he had been given, so he just… held on to it. What was werewolf etiquette for being gifted a body part?

He remembered the whole thing with cats bringing their owners dead animals because they thought that their owners couldn’t hunt and internally groaned. Please, please, please do not tell him he is expected to eat this?

He hadn’t wanted to set it down because if Soap was in control and had knowingly given it to him, that would just be a dick move. And really, the same applied for if he was lost in his instincts, it would still be mean to simply toss it aside. Maybe he was just overthinking this.

Can you overthink being given the throat of your enemy? It seems like it might be one of those things that you can only under-think.

His pondering was interrupted by Soap stopping and sniffing the air. He let out a rumbling growl, sniffed once more, and then began herding Ghost to the exit. He wanted to ask what was wrong but it wasn’t like the wolf would’ve been able to answer. Regardless, just like his instincts earlier, Ghost knew to trust Soap’s senses.

As they made their way to the ground floor, he could hear engines in the distance.

“Ah, shit…” Why now did they have to return to reclaim their stupid building?

He looked around the perimeter and saw an abandoned truck near the fence. Ghost got Soap’s attention and gestured to the vehicle, both running for it.

When the door didn’t open, he didn’t hesitate to smash in the window. As he hotwired the car, Soap started pacing back and forth, clearly unhappy at the fact that he wasn’t able to help in some way. When the werewolf heard the engine start, he perked up and ran towards the driver’s door, spinning in circles.

Ghost stepped to the side, wanting to let him in before he got behind the wheel. There was shouting coming from in front of them, some poor guard trying to get their attention who likely didn’t realize he was staring at the people who just stole incredibly valuable information right out from underneath their noses.

The guy, somehow not noticing the werewolf, approached, talking about how Ghost shouldn’t have access to the truck. He had the advantage, already holding his gun. They needed a distraction.

Some men stormed out of the exit of the building they had just fled through, gesturing wildly with their hands, shouting, “Something already killed the wraith!”

When eyes turned to the truck, Ghost had already gotten in and put it in drive.

If the guard hadn’t realized earlier, then it probably dawned on him as he had to jump out of the way to avoid getting run over. Some others tried to stop him, but there was a reason Ghost never got a driver’s license. He had spotted a locked chain link fence gate that looked just right for their grand escape and floored it. He laughed at their panic when they realized he wasn’t slowing down but tried not to be disappointed by the lack of sudden speed bumps. Soap had his fun earlier, why can’t Ghost have his?

They cleared the gate with ease and were speeding down old, back country roads in no time. Soap had moved to the backseat (the front being nowhere near big enough for him) and pawed at the window. Ghost, still riding the high of almost running people over, chuckled and let down the window, looking in the rearview mirror as Soap stuck his head out.

Knowing him, he was probably still mostly there and was enjoying having an excuse to be even stupider than usual. Ghost tried not to watch him, but he was happy to see his sergeant so happy. Besides, he’d seen enough shifts gone wrong to know that they were lucky he was still in such high spirits after a fear-induced shift.

He felt something by his foot and glanced down at the floorboard, seeing the throat still sitting there from where he had dropped it to hotwire the car. Huh. Seriously, what in the ever-loving fuck are you supposed to do in this situation?!

When he could safely say that no one was chasing them, he pulled over and got out, Soap following, running around to get out energy that was still pent up. He radioed Price, updating him on the situation. Luckily, there was a safe house nearby. Unluckily, it was a shithole.

It looked like the military saw a house going into foreclosure, bought it, then left it to rot. Even from the outside, he could see that the roof looked one more storm away from collapse and the windows had been boarded up with plywood. The only thing keeping the walls up was the structural support from how much vegetation covered the outside. How homely.

The front door wasn’t even big enough for Soap to fit, they had to go around and find a sliding back door that opened wider (he didn’t chuckle at the fact that the front door was too small for the behemoth of a werewolf, definitely not.) It didn’t take long to clear the house, the only hostile he found was some mold growing in the corner that could probably start another strand of the bubonic plague.

Ghost went back to the main room and picked through their MREs, preparing them while Soap sniffed every nook and cranny of the house. The novelty of such a large thing in such a small area had yet to wear off, and he still silently laughed at Soap having to squeeze through the doors. The wolf continually let out annoyed huffs and Ghost knew that if he still had human vocal chords, he would be prattling on and on about how stupid the door frames were.

Once Soap had checked the house himself, he made his way back and shoved his snout in Ghost’s way, both to see what he was doing and to be a nuisance. Ghost laughed and shoved his face away, knowing Soap was about to start a campaign to make sure the lieutenant wouldn’t be able to prepare their dinner in peace.

His left hand being designated as the ‘shove Soap away’ hand, he was able to continue setting up the heating element one-handed. At some point, Ghost stopped pulling his hand away and left it on his forehead, pushing as needed. And, because Ghost’s main talent is ruining things, it evolved into his left hand scratching Soap’s ears, apparently having forgotten the most basic rule when interacting with werewolves.

“If you wouldn’t do it to a human, don’t do it to them. You wouldn’t walk up to a stranger and start petting their head, would you?”

Ghost stopped and pulled his hand away, muttering an embarrassed apology that wouldn’t come close to making up for treating his sergeant like some random street dog. Throughout the petting, Soap’s head had dropped low, likely having feared retaliation if he protested the ministrations and just deciding to grin and bear it.

Soap growled, shoving his head towards his chest.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that. It was just…,” just what? Instinct to dehumanize the person who just saved your life?

“Just… nothing. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

This time Soap whined and dropped his head in Ghost’s lap, staring up at him sadly.

“I know,” this time even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

By some saving grace, the MREs were ready. He set Soap’s next to him before subtly inching away, not wanting to force the poor man to eat next to him.

Soap huffed and nudged his food closer to Ghost before plopping down practically on top of the man and digging in. Ghost was frozen for a second, staring at his sergeant, before he too relaxed and began eating. It didn’t take long for them to finish up, both inhaling their food as fast as they could. Soap doing so from the increased appetite brought on by shifting, and Ghost hoping that he wouldn’t have to taste whatever the military considered edible.

Within no time Soap was stretching and yawning while Ghost situated himself at the window.

“I’ll take watch while you sleep,” he didn’t even bother trying to lie and pretend that he would wake Soap up to take shifts. No human vocal cords meant no arguing. He got comfortable, moving the curtains to just the right angle for him to see out while keeping the view from outside obscured.

Something was tugging his sleeve. Maybe the werewolf was further in his instincts than he thought.

When he looked, as expected, he saw Soap trying to gently pull him away. Ghost chuckled again, Soap always had to be careful watching his strength when shifted. He pulled his hand back and went to ruffle Soap’s ears before aborting the motion short. He’s not making that mistake again.

“Go to sleep, I know you’re tired from shifting. I’m the one that can still operate a gun.”

Soap growled. Ghost rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, “Go to sleep, sergeant.”

Soap backed away and, for a foolish second, Ghost thought that was it, that he had won.

He tried to lean back against the window frame but his shoulder wasn’t even able to make contact with the wall before something was latching onto his wrist, pulling him towards the corner that their bedrolls had been tossed to.

“Mactavish, that is enough,” he put as much authority in his voice as he could while being yanked around by a very stubborn werewolf. Ghost tried to pull his arm away but, unlike before, Soap’s grip tightened. It wasn’t enough to hurt, at least, so long as he went with Soap it wasn’t.

Soap growled. Just like the grip, before it had been playful, but not now. Ghost went with him, mostly out of shock. It was the first time the wolf’s ire had been directed towards him.

As he was shoved towards the makeshift bed, he gave in, “Alright, alright, I fucking get it.”

He laid down but didn’t remove any of his gear, as soon as Soap was asleep, he would be taking point at the window.

To his great frustration, Soap already seemed to know his plan and was biting at his tac vest. If Soap was far in his instincts, how would he know why Ghost kept his gear on? Was Soap, of sound body and mind, actually throwing a tantrum over who took watch?

“For Fuck’s sake, sergeant. Pull yourself together,” even as he said it he gave in to the repeated nips and growls and removed most of his gear, save for a gun holster and a few knives.

Soap seemed pleased and pushed his head into Ghost's chest to make him lie down again. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling, knowing he wasn’t exhausted enough for sleep’s mercy to grace him. It was bad enough on base, but on missions, his inability to sleep was somehow worse.

His misery was interrupted by something walking in front of him.

“What the hell was the point of making me lie down if you’re not going to watch either?”

Soap didn’t answer, just turned in circles getting ready to lie down. Until he saw Ghost moving to get up. Then he switched gears and dropped himself on top of him so he couldn’t get up and paid no mind to his gasping.

“Johnny, you-,” he shoved at the wolf and let out a wheezy breath, “you heavy bastard, move.”

Soap did no such thing and stared down at him from a sharp angle, noses less than two inches apart. As Ghost got used to the weight, he was able to breathe fully, finding most of Soap’s weight was dispersed enough that he wouldn’t be dying of crush syndrome anytime soon.

He also knew he wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon.

Ghost sighed to the best of his ability and reached for his radio.

Soap, as expected, growled.

“I’m just grabbing my radio to tell Price we aren’t dead. Is that alright with you?” the sarcasm in his tone was heavy but Soap just huffed and dropped his head back on (and completely covering) Ghost’s chest.

Price is a traitor and he revokes any positive comment he has ever made in regards to the captain. When Ghost informed him of his predicament and the fact that Soap had trapped his superior officer, the cruel bastard just laughed.

Price told him that Soap would hear someone before Ghost could see them with a scope and that he should enjoy the break and sleep. When he complained more, Price had the audacity to wrinkle paper and tell him the signal was dropping. Bastard.

He dropped his radio on the floor and readjusted himself. Chances were, he’d still be able to shrug off Soap once he fell asleep, it would just be a bit more difficult. Johnny was leaning into him and somehow managed to snuggle closer.

/\/\/\/\/\

Simon awoke with phantom images of blood on the carpet and the echoing of screams ringing in his ears.

He was still lying there, trapped underneath his sergeant who he seemed to have woken up with his sudden panic. Thankfully, the wolf moved and let him sit up, still trying to parse through his memories (real, fabricated, and embellished) and unable to get his breathing under control.

Something was tugging his sleeve.

He couldn’t see much beyond his blood-stained hands but recognized the sensation of fur under his fingers as he grieved once again. How many fucking times would he have to go through this? He pushed himself so his back was to the wall and closed his eyes.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

And yet they're still dead, aren’t they?

There was a weight in his lap. It was something heavy. He felt it and felt the same fur from before. He clenched his eyes tighter and tried desperately to breathe. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.

He lifted his hand, feeling like he had to rip out his hair, but Johnny noticed and rooted around, getting his nose under Ghost’s hand. Ghost moved his hand away but Soap just shoved his head back under it. Simon began very hesitantly scratching his ears. In for 6, hold for 9, out for 10.

He allowed himself to relax, if only slightly, and even brought his other hand up to scratch his other ear. Simon buried his head in the fur in front of him. In for 8, hold for 11, out for 12.

Simon cried. He hated doing it, especially in front of others, but he could hear Johnny admonishing him, telling him that crying was healthy, that it was just as necessary as laughter. He always hated the weakness and vulnerability it brought, hated the idea of people knowing he was upset, but Johnny was always the exception, wasn’t he?

After an embarrassing amount of time, he leaned back and wiped his eyes. He saw Johnny’s head resting in his lap, stupidly blue eyes watching him with care. The rest of the room eventually made its way in, light trickling in through cracks in the roof and an early morning chill settling around them. Later, it would likely be so hot that the ice of hypothermia felt desirable, but as for now, Simon shivered.

Johnny wormed closer and curled around him. Unlike last night when it was meant to make sure he would stay down, this time it was to make sure as much of him was covered as possible. Simon felt bad for forcing Johnny into the role of service dog and weighted blanket, but Johnny’s not-quite-snores were rather helpful in assuring him that the wolf enjoyed their current position as much as he did.

Simon continued scratching his ears and muttered a quiet, “Thank you.”

Johnny huffed happily and nuzzled closer.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #soap x ghost #werewolf au #werewolf!soap #my writing

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friendly-neighborhood-furry · 3 months

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sometimes the state of the world makes me want to go outside and scream as loud as i can for help. sometimes it makes me want to crawl deep into a hole and never come back out again. sometimes it makes me want to fall to my knees and sob uncontrollably. sometimes it seems so hopeless that i cant see any better alternative other than just disappearing.

so much evil and destruction and suffering-- and for what?

what is it all for?

for the latest popular billionare to take a 13 minute flight? for the newest remake of a movie that changed my life to get turned into mindless sludge? for a never-before-seen species of animal to be discovered, then pronounced extinct the very next week? for millions of people to go broke for having cancer?

i tell my mother that i wont be able to afford a house. she says "no, you will." i tell my counselor that my government wants to kill me. she says "that's not true." i tell my teachers i don't see a point in doing well in school because i wont be able to get a job anyway, even if i have a college degree. they tell me "no, you'll get a job. school is still important." i email my senators begging them to stop funding the genocide in Palestine. i get a copy-pasted email back with a history lesson about why that wont happen. one million people died from COVID last Christmas and i'm the only one at my school still wearing a mask. my future as an artist was ripped from my hands in less than two years and pretty soon i wont be able to share anything about my art at all. i'm half mexican, but everybody says i'm "too white" to be a "real mexican". its been four years and i'm nowhere closer to understanding my gender identity than i was at the start. tumblr has been my only safe space for three years and now that KOSA might pass this week, where will i go?

and all the while, through all of this conflict-- people are still falling in love for the first time and rescuing kittens off the street and watching their children take their first steps and getting married and making fun little indie games and building elaborate cosplays of their favorite character and making the most heart-touchingly beautiful pieces of art you've ever seen and meeting lifelong friends and cooking amazingly delicious food and playing children's games and weaving baskets from pine needles and taking care of livestock and collecting little knick-knacks and having the best day of their lives and writing their first line of code and learning to play instruments and hatching baby birds and posting a 100K word thesis about a show they really like and uploading song covers for 19 people on Youtube to listen to and pushing the boundaries of what science can accomplish and discussing moral philosophies in the comment section of a Reddit post and feeling truly seen in the eyes of another human being for the first time in their lives and growing old surrounded by the people they love.

the future is uncertain, but the world will go on. the winds will still blow and the tides will still flow. people will continue to find joy in this hell and fight for it with everything they have.

so don't give up.

"don't give up," i tell myself.

"don't give up," i tell you.

"don't give up," i scream into the sky.

there is always something to keep going for. if you cannot find it in yourself, find it in others. find it in the people in your life and the people you see online. find it in the good of humanity you know to exist.

find it. keep fighting. don't give up.

#at the end of it all i do consider myself a poet #if this reaches even one person #and gives them the strength to keep going #i would consider it a success #tomothy rambles #serious post #gen z #capitalism #climate change #palestine #free palestine #lgbtqia+#queer #trans #vent #mental health #anxiety #depression

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celestialaphroditee · 1 year

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diet mountain dew ! | jake sully

pairing, jake sully x female human!reader

summary, after the omaticayan clan agree to teach jake their ways, he’ll come to realize that pandora has its secrets just like earth. And that secret was you.

warnings, NSFW! minors do not interact! Smut! Size difference! Fingering! Touchy of the breast!

authors note, so this is my first fic on tumblr and depending how this goes I might make this a miniseries cause I’m already invested in this character

Jake’s favorite color used to be brown, he remembered. And not just any brown, he argued, it was a dark chestnut brown — the color of his mother’s reading glasses that she usually wore when she’d patronize himself as a child for his countless of impulsive decisions ( which for longed nothing but trouble ) The same color was also worn by his father in the form of a raggedy old pocket watch he claimed would bestow him the grandest gift the dying earth could give — that was something Jake never understood as the watch itself hadn’t told time since before his time, yet not once uttered the fact to his father. And lest not forget his twin brother Tommy who’d gifted him that same colored wooded bracelet before he was stationed off to the military. That dark chestnut brown was everywhere in his eyes, so subtle, and so hard not to like.

The color once meant stability in his mind, it’d be the same color covering your fingertips from a rugged fall . . . so easy to brush off, but still there reminding you of what ground you walked on and what safe haven you reported to.

And yet, when he lost everyone and himself alike, that once firm and strapping color grew dull. Plaguing him of the memories where his life stood its ground firmly — accounting no recoil when everything surrounding it quaked . . . Until it withstood all it could and that stable image came tumbling down disclosing secrets he couldn’t possibly understand.

Those same secrets left him in utter awe. The deep enriching chestnut color proving to hide all the endeavors it could, but it was wholly riveting to him — discovering secrets beyond comprehension as it gave him another shot at life . . .

Pandora gave him another shot at life, one full of it’s peculiarity which was so incredibly intoxicating to him, and yet he couldn’t help but notice that same color Pandora was built upon forcing the thought of what secrets the enigmatic planet held, and how those secrets would curate to the man the Omaticaya clan believe he'd never become.

But Jake knew he was giving them one hell of a ride for their money. His resolve was oh so stubborn, never one letting up. Neytiri claimed it was due to his strong heart, but he didn't know whether to believe her or not, because the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he’d let you break down every ounce of his resolve if need be.

You were stood at the base of a grandiose waterfall, nude back to him allowing him to see the purple veins littered throughout your body . . . but that wasn't what intrigued him. What intrigued him was your flesh . . . your human flesh, not blue like every other na’vi he’d encountered during his time on the planet.

His head tilted sideways in confusion. How was it that you didn’t have an oxygen mask? How was it that you seemed alone? Surely you were apart of a squad as no human in their right mind would ever venture into an ample and diverse environment by themselves. Especially one as exceedingly perilous as Pandora.

So he waited, in hopes of locating where you came from or whom you were working for.

But, one minute turned into five and five turned into ten, until he was sure he’d stood there against the rugged bark of a tree watching your elegant form swiftly sway to the song you were humming to for more than thirty minutes. And in those thirty minutes, not once did it look like you were meant to be elsewhere . . . you were far too relaxed with the way the water rippled and tickled your nude frame.

You looked as if you were home.

The thought alone scared Jake. He’d seen the terrors and minacious creatures lurking deep within the heart of Pandora, surely you knew that too.

Hell, even if you did you payed no mind. No mind to the hisses that slithered through the air wizzing past his own ears, no mind to the roaring in the air echoing around you as if a ferocious beast was moments away from plucking you from your safe haven, and no mind to the gallant of creatures swinging through the trees above you. All you did was bask in the moment, as if you belonged in the ecosystem along with every other creature. As if you called every living being your friend.

Despite his always lurking curiosity, he knew it was time to go. Neytiri would have him by the head if he stood out any longer, but he vowed to himself that he’d returned . . .

And he did, every day for three months.

Some days, you’d be like the first — nude with your clothes strewn on a rock nearby swaying to the song you were humming that coincidentally Jake had running through his own head. Your back was too him, always, which he was grateful for, but if you moved to quick he was swift enough to turn his head fearing of overstepping a boundary. Other days you’d lay on the grass watching the ikran sail above you as if wondering how’d it feel to be them. However, his favorite days had to be when you’d sing a song as sweet as your voice. You’d sing it to the world around you, like it listened to everything . . . and sometimes he thought so.

One day, he mustered the courage to ask Neytiri about you wondering how you were so close to their abode, yet so far all the same.

Her posture turned rigid, “What woman?”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “The human woman by the waterfall. She has purple ve—“

“No!” Neytiri interrupted. “You do not speak of this woman,” she stalked towards him. Eyes squinted in bubbling anger. “No think either.”

Jake’s furrowed eyebrows thickened but he nodded, knowing to never push his luck anymore. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have another option.

“You seriously haven’t seen her?” He asked incredulously.

Grace released a puff of smoke from her cigarette, shaking her head she said, “I don’t have a single clue on what you’re raving about, marine,” she took a puff. “Wouldn’t be the first time either, but you’ve been at this long enough to know no humans would survive out there.”

He wheeled closer, his human body desperate for answers, “But she can Grace,” he sighed. “Listen, I don’t know how or why, but she’s human.”

Norm glanced at Grace and frowned, the papers in his hand now not worth his attention, “biologically speaking it’s impossible, Jake.”

Jake dramatically groaned and ran a hand down his face, “Not you too!”

“Okay,” grace began putting out her cigarette. “Let’s say what you’re telling us is true,” she crossed her arms and leaned against the rusty metal wall around them. “Where do we go from there? You still haven’t received the trust of the Omaticaya clan and I think we should focus on that, seeing as we have no samples or sizable proof of a woman with purple marks walking around.”

Jake released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and didn’t utter a word. He knew what you were, he’d seen you with his own two eyes for months.

Grace took pity on his frown and patted his leg, “If what you’re saying is true Jake, everything we knew about Pandora could be flipped sideways,” his eyes flickered from the floor to her. “But come on, enough of that marine. Training is bright and early tomorrow, rest up!”

The thought of Pandora’s secrets being revealed was enough for him to be consumed by you, like a never ending flame settling deep within his heart . . . and oh, did this flame spark at the thought of you.

Without a moment of hesitation, Jake knew what he had to do.

You were oblivious to the world around you, more specifically to war brewing from the cosmos: seeking nothing but destruction. So, you stood as elegant as he’d seen you on the first: admiring the world around you, following the whispers that called.

You looked so peaceful.

“Hey!”

You turned from your position near the water and if his sudden appearance scared you, you didn’t show it. You merely blinked at the blue na’vi bounding towards you in excitement, a little skip to his step.

“We had an agreement,” you rose your eyebrows. your lips pressed together in annoyance, the na’vi language rolling off your tongue as sweetly as you sang. Far better than anything he’s able to mutter. “An agreement you all began.”

The boyish smile on his face slightly vanished but the closer he came the more you noticed a hint of it continued to reside on his face.

“You’re human,” he breathed out ignoring your first statement.

You sighed, the height difference forcing you to crane your neck up to look at him, “I will not participate in any foolishness your clan is looking for,” your eyes narrowed into slits. “Leave. I will not ask again.”

“Woah! Wait! I’m human!” he raises his hands up in surrender. “I’m human!”

Your eyebrows raise.

Jake seems to understand his mistake, “I might not look like a human now, but I am!” he hurries to assure. “Through psionics!”

He states this matter of factly, as if you were supposed to know of what comes out of his rambling mouth, but the frown on your features was a clear indicator that you were as lost as a baby ikran.

“Psionics?” He pressured again, but still your face was icy. He turned to look behind you, “Where’s your squad? How do you breathe Pandora’s air?”

The questions came out too fast for your liking, so all you did was huff, turn around, and continue your water watching hoping that the fool would leave you alone.

He didn’t.

“I gotta tell you, it’s good to see a new human face,” he sat down next to you, while you were seated on a rook about four feet off the ground. “I’ve been down here for months and now when I wake up, I wake up expecting to be something . . . new.”

Silence was your response. You’d hope he’d leave you alone but a small part of you was also incredibly curious. He was human? Well, why does he look na’vi?

Yet, he continued, “So, what’s your mission?” he turned to view the purple veins on your arms. “Did the colonel send you too?”

This peaked your interest.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you turned towards him. Even sitting down he was still a couple of inches taller than you, but the sitting arrangement was more comfortable than standing.

“Colonel? What is a Colonel?”

Something in the supposed human seem to snap him back into reality. The once boyish smile fell into a more concentrated frown. As if the world itself was a math problem made for him to solve.

There was no way you were on Pandora without the help of the Colonel, he practically had a say on everything regarding the unique planet. So, why wouldn’t you know him?

He decided to play it safe, like he did with the Omaticayan clan, “Humans or the sky people have warriors. Colonels lead a small section of warriors to battle while also listening to the people who are higher up.”

“Higher up?”

“Someone who has more power over you.”

The crease with in your forehead continued to show, “What is the psilonics you mentioned?”

The corner of his mouth jutted up but he corrected you coolly, “Psionics is how the sky people are able to turn into a na’vi.”

You stayed silent for a while, processing the information given to you. If you had trouble digesting the details, you didn’t let it show. Your expression as icy as it was when your conversation with him began, but the curiosity still lingered in your soul, eywa could practically feel it. You were so curious, in fact, the next days the na’vi ventured into your camp you were already waiting.

Days turned into weeks, Weeks turned into months.

Looks turned into gazes, touches turned into lingers.

The man consumed your every being, drowning in your mind with no memory of him in your head to give his lungs air. He clawed, fought, and even charmed to escape . . . but you held him there so tight the air grew harder to contain.

“You must be careful, Jake,” you told him once as took a dip in your waterfall. “Your clan call me demon. They say I’m not worthy of eywa’s blessing,” you turned to him. “Do you see me as a demon?”

You had no idea how and where you grew bold. Maybe the icy cold water sent a shrill of adrenaline up your spine and tickled your heart—or maybe it already did that on its own, that would explain the fluttery feeling you grew in your time with the Na’vi male.

The male was seated on the grass beside the plunge pool, looking at you indescribably as if you were a problem he willed himself to solve no matter the circumstance.

“No,” he spoke after a moment of observing you. “I don’t see a demon.”

You took slow steps out of the water towards the rock next to him. Your nipple hardening when a breeze swept by almost taking your breath away.

You sat down beside him, the rock allowing you to be at his eye-level. You felt his gaze covering your entirety almost making you shiver with thrill.

You turned towards him a wonder in your eyes, “What do you see?” You whispered.

He leaned towards you his own eyes clouding with the emotion bubbling in between your legs, “A beauty that rivals that of eywa.”

Before you knew it, his much larger lips planted on your own. Practically devouring them. You did your best to reciprocate the action, to show him every ounce of emotion that littered your body since the day you saw him.

A groan echoed in your mouth, giving you the answer you were hoping for.

His slender blue fingers tugged at your almost nonexistent garments. Moving as quickly as he could. Without a second to think, you complied. Giving him the access he so desperately wanted.

His lips latched onto your right breast, tongue circling the bud, before receiving a harsh suck that had you crying out.

“Jake!” You moaned.

His head lifted and he gave you a cheeky grin, but his hands moved much lower, “You can take it, can’t you baby?”

His fingers trailed over your clit lightly tapping it to tease you, “Right?” He spoke that idiotic grin still on his face.

You felt hot. You’re face was likely red from the position and size difference but it made you all that much aroused. So you nodded.

“Yes!” You cried as his index finger circled your entrance, occasionally stopping to tap. “I can take it!”

“Good girl.”

He eased his finger inside watching in amazement as your cunt sucked him in so eagerly disappearing soon after. The cry you let out was deliciously sweet he wanted to hear more.

His free hand nipped and pinched your breast creating even more stimulation.

Then when he started thrusting, you could swear your soul saw eywa.

His index finger alone made you feel so deliciously full you began to cry out like no other, especially when he curled his finger and the slow pace picked up.

“Yeah that’s right,” he nodded looking over your bare body and contorted face full of pleasure. “You’re mine now.”

#jake sully #avatar #atwow #pandora #neytiri #jake sully smut #avatar smut #jake sully x you #jake sully x reader

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beekeeperspicnic · 10 months

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What I've been getting up to without my computer

Since I don't have any game updates at the moment I thought I'd give you a look at my very analogue Sherlock Holmes related project!

As you probably know, the Sherlock Holmes stories were mostly originally published in the Strand Magazine which came out as floppy monthly magazines with hardback collections every six months.

A while ago I spotted a really beaten up copy of the July to December 1893 book on eBay for £8. This book can sometimes go for £200 in good condition because it's the one with...

I immediately decided to make repairing it a Project!

You can see here that the text block has totally come away from the boards.

Along the spine I was really excited to see something a little familiar being used to give some structural support! My initial thought was that this had to be a slice of a cover of one of the floppy Strand magazines.

But when I got it loose and studied it, although the paper and ink colour is the same, it doesn't actually follow the layout format of the Strand covers. It's lots of little ads, and they run off the bottom like this is part of a larger document.

Scrap of paper on left, a Strand Magazine on the right:

So yeah, that's still a bit of a mystery, but it's cool to see this scrap of paper the printers had lying around. I had to remove it, but I'm going to keep it safe.

I did some gentle cleaning of the cover using a putty eraser, just gently pressing and rolling, never rubbing. It picked up a little of the grime.

The cover had got some paint splotches on at some point in the past, and I tried to gently remove these. Part of me wishes I'd left them as I think I was starting to effect the blue colour in the area.

(Original on the right, my attempt at cleaning on the left!)

I also reinforced some of the parts of the bookcloth around the spine that were very worn with Japanese tissue, which is very thin but very, very difficult to tear.

Now here's a fun part, with some help from my cat Miss Malkin!

The spine of the book had a few problems.

The fabric which wraps around it and helps attach it to the cover/boards which is called scrim (or mull, I've seen it called both!) had totally decayed and turned into gross dust, I knew I'd need to replace it.

Although the sewn binding was sound, I could tell that the glue wasn't doing its job anymore. It was old 'animal glue' that had turned hard and brittle. I knew I'd need to replace it with something else, like PVA.

I needed to get that glue off, so I tried out a trick I saw online. I made a paste/gel out of methycellulose, which is a substance that gets used as a thickener in lots of food products. Of course I keep mine in a fancy little jar:

The gel softens the old glue without getting it dangerously damp, allowing you to gently scrape it away. I have a really satisfying video of me doing it, but Tumblr only lets you upload one video per post, boo.

Look at all this gnarly gunk!

But look at how good the text block looks with its new scrim and glue!

I got the black paper from Shepherd's in London which is a specialist Art & Conservation Paper shop (they have a book bindery too but it's closed at the weekends.) Buying it was so fun, I got to look through lots of samples and pick something which matched the original paper.

I then had to get it home half way across the country on public transport. Yaaaaay.

I was trying to think what I was going to use to replace the Strand Magazine page on the spine. In the end I decided to leave a little note, for some future person who might take the binding apart someday!

So, here it is!

I have to admit that this whole project has been a real challenge, emotionally more than anything! It's required me to be brave about messing with an old book, and to acknowledge that even where I've made mistakes, at least it's better off then it was when It arrived at my house.

#strand magazine #book restoration #bookbinding #old books #vintage books #history

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sweetsweetjellybean · 1 year

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**Series Masterlist is available on the Fic Menu pinned to the top of my blog. Please Fix this link shit Tumblr**

TW: Smut-tacular Smut, Angst, Casual Drug Use, NSFW 18+

Beta’d by @superblysubpar AN: See End of Chapter Word Count 21,074

Series Masterlist

“Where are you two headed?” Steve asks, leaning against the kitchen island, raising a coffee mug to his lips.

“We’re going to look at the car,” you say, beaming proudly. The long hours and careful saving are finally going to pay off. As much as you appreciated both boys driving you around, you can’t wait to be more self-reliant. This is a step in the right direction. Placing your purse on the island, you start going through its contents, making sure you have everything you’ll need.

“Need any help?” Steve directs the question to you, but Eddie answers instead.

“I’ve got it covered, Harrington,” Eddie states in a flat voice as he pulls out two black travel mugs from the cabinet and moves around Steve to fill them with coffee.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve turns to face him, crossing his arms over his chest, “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, It’s not a BMW, but there’s a used Pinto over at Kent’s car lot. I think it will be a good size for her, and it’s in her price range,” Eddie adds a little sugar from the bowl on the counter before snapping the lids closed.

“You’re kidding, right?” Steve sets his mug down on the counter and puts his hands on his hips, “You can’t put her in one of those. They aren’t safe.”

“Like I said, I’ve got this covered,” Eddie says, squaring up to him.

“It’s fine, Steve,” you say, trying to lower the temperature.

“It’s not fine,” Steve says, not taking his eyes off Eddie, “Those cars explode when they’re hit from behind. Something about the gas tank.”

“It’s what she can afford. Okay, money bags?” Eddie’s baiting him. Something has been off since the night Steve picked you up at work. Eddie’s been tense, paying closer attention to your comings and goings.

“Then she can wait a few more weeks until she can get something else. I’ll drive her. She’s not getting in one of those death traps,” Steve fumes, taking a step toward Eddie.

“I think we have had enough of your taxi services,” Eddie retorts, narrowing his eyes.

Dropping the checkbook you’re holding, you rush around the islands and hook your arm around Eddie’s elbow, “Eddie, come on,” you gently pull him back from Steve, “we’ll figure it out.”

He lets you pull him around the island, where you quickly grab your purse before heading towards the door.

“Don’t go to Kent’s. Go to Martin’s, you’ll get a better deal. They’ll haggle. Look for an Oldsmobile,” Steve calls after you.

“Thanks, Steve,” you say, giving him a look over your shoulder.

When you get in the van, Eddie grips the steering wheel and stares down at the dash. His knuckles turn white, and he shakes his head.

“He’s just trying to be helpful,” you say quietly.

“Maybe he should go with you,” he turns his head to look at you.

Clicking off your seatbelt, you climb over the console into his lap,” I want you to take me, okay?” you press a few small kisses to his lips before he finally kisses you back.

“Okay?” you ask again, rubbing his shoulders.

“Okay,” he softly pats your thigh, “you better get buckled in before safety officer squarehead sees you and has an aneurysm.”

Laughing, you kiss him again before returning to your seat. The van’s engine rumbles to life, and Queensryche blasts from the speakers.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he drives towards town.

“Martin’s,” he sighs, drumming his hand on top of the wheel.

♡♡♡

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks from the passenger seat. The wind from the open window blows his curls as you zoom down the deserted road surrounded by woods on the edge of town.

Unable to keep up your poker face, you let the smile take over, “I love it,” you say, admiring the blue velvet interior of the Cutlass. The trees shade the road as you press your foot down on the gas, speeding along under their canopy.

“Easy now, speed racer. You haven’t signed for it yet,” he scolds with a smile playing on his lips.

The tires crunch over loose asphalt as you pull onto the shoulder and turn the key in the ignition. Pushing up the armrest, you slide across the bench seat and straddle his lap, “I thought you liked to go fast,” you whisper before nipping at his neck.

His hands slide down your hips until he’s squeezing your ass, “You really like this car,” he chuckles.

“Uh-huh,” you nod as you pull your shirt over your head and lean down to seal your mouth over his.

“What do you think?” you ask between kisses.

“I think,” his hands move to your breasts, kneading them over your bra, “that it looks like a little old lady’s car.”

“Hey,” you swat his hands off your chest.

He laughs before leaning forward and burying his face in your cleavage. Placing your hands on his jaw, you tip his head back, “What do you really think?”

“It’s going to wipe out your savings after you buy insurance, but if you like it, you should get it.”

The leaves rustle softly as a light breeze blows through. A few of his curls flutter around your cheeks as you kiss, tickling your skin.

“We haven’t checked out the backseat yet,” you say, grinding on his lap.

“We should be thorough,” his fingers glide down your shoulder, taking your bra strap with them.

“Do our due diligence,” you agree, pulling on the lever that opens the door. Scooting off his lap, you climb out and open the back door. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp your bra before ducking into the backseat, Eddie following right behind you, unbuckling his belt and pulling off his shirt.

He slips off your bra, balls it up, and tosses it into the front seat before maneuvering you onto your back and climbing over you until he’s cradled between your legs.

“Roomy,” he says, looking around before closing his mouth over your nipple, laving it with his tongue, and gently biting down.

“Yes, Eddie,” you moan, rolling your hips, seeking out some friction.

He’s working on your other breast when he stops suddenly, “Where did you go the other night when Steve picked you up from work?”

His question catches you off guard. “What do you mean?” you ask, your stomach tenses and burns with nerves, “I came home.”

“Two hours after Enzo’s closed,” his face is entirely blank, disguising his feelings.

“I didn’t go anywhere. I got out a little late, and Steve wanted to talk, so he just drove around,” you loathe how easily the lies roll off your tongue.

“Oh yeah?” his tone is measured and even giving nothing away, “Did he talk about that girl he brought home from the church? She seemed to enjoy herself. I keep meaning to ask him how she was,” he’s testing you, gauging your reaction.

“He didn’t bring her up.”

“No? Well, Steve’s fucked a lot of girls. He probably can’t tell one pussy from another.”

“Steve’s not going to talk to me about his sex life, Eddie,” irritation creeps into your voice.

“Why not? You two are such good friends now,” the sarcasm drips from his voice as he pulls himself off you.

“We better get back,” he opens the door and pushes out of the backseat, “We don’t want anyone thinking we stole their car,” he says, buckling his belt. He opens the front passenger door and reaches in to grab your clothes. He tosses them to you, leaving you to wonder what just happened.

♡♡♡

"Mmmmm," Steve hums, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind as you stand at the kitchen sink rinsing some ripe berries in a colander.

"I love being able to do this," he kisses down your temple, and you spin in his arms, abandoning your task. His mouth tastes minty and fresh as you slide your tongue inside. It doesn't feel wrong being with Steve, the same way it doesn't feel wrong being with Eddie. Loving them is as natural as breathing. There hasn't been any sex since the night at Weathertop. He hasn't pushed, content to hold and kiss you. And there has been lots of kissing. His hands are in your hair as he backs you against the counter, kissing you until you both need to come up for air.

"Good morning," he says, pressing his soft lips to yours a few more times.

"You're in a good mood this morning," you note the crisp, light blue button-down he has tucked into his jeans, a little more formal than he usually dresses.

"There's a beautiful woman that I'm crazy in love with in my kitchen," his fingers dip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the skin just above your shorts, "And I get to kiss her while she makes fruit salad," he reaches behind you stealing a couple blueberries, popping one in his mouth before offering the other one to you. Your lips close around his fingers as he places the berry on your tongue. The tart juice bursts into your mouth as you bite down.

"She loves you right back," you stretch to kiss him, the blueberry flavor coating your mouths.

"Are you hungry? Can I make you some breakfast?" you ask, straightening his collar.

"I'm starving, actually, and I would love that if you don't mind," he says, grabbing a few more pieces of fruit.

"What would you like?" you're thrilled his appetite has returned.

"Umm, how about some scrambled eggs?"

"You got it," happily, you walk to the fridge to retrieve the egg carton.

"I'll put in some toast. Want any?" he asks with his head in the pantry.

"I already ate," you say, cracking an egg into a bowl. He makes himself a cup of coffee and drinks it leaning against the island watching you cook. Once everything is ready, you join him at the breakfast table.

"Do you need anything else for the party? I can stop when I'm out," he scoops some eggs onto his toast before taking a bite.

"Nope. We have everything," you went shopping yesterday, driving yourself in your new car. The school year was over, and everyone was coming over to hang out by the pool to celebrate. They had let Eddie walk at graduation despite him having to take one makeup class over the summer. Eddie invited Dustin and Nancy's little brother, who is bringing his girlfriend with them.

"Where are you going looking so handsome?" you ask smiling, leaning your elbow on the table and propping your head in your hand. The collar of his dress shirt is open, and you can see a hint of dark hair at the edge of his white undershirt.

His cheeks tint pink as he finishes chewing, "I hate missing a chance to be alone with you, but I sort of have a job interview," he sets down his fork and turns his body toward you, "I'm meeting with the town manager and the head of the rec department."

"Whoa, that sounds important."

"The town's taking some of the disaster relief funds and building a new community center. A few of the town council members worked with me at the shelter and they asked if I'd be interested in working there," he picks up the hand you have resting on your thigh and fidgets with your fingers, "maybe even running it."

"That's great, Steve. It sounds like a big opportunity. Is that something you're interested in?" you've seen Steve with Dustin and his other friends, he really cares for them, and they all look to him for guidance.

"I'd probably have to take a few college classes, and I'll miss working with Robin, but this is the kind of work I can be proud of," he looks into your eyes, "I'd make enough to support a family."

"Is that what you want?" you ask, unsure how to feel. He's hinting about children when you're still trying to get through this without hurting anyone.

"Definitely," he says without any hesitation, "Do you?"

"Yeah, someday."

He squeezes your hand, happiness glowing on his face. He stands and leans over to kiss you, "I'll be back to help as soon as I can," he takes his plate to the sink and picks up his keys from the island.

"Good luck," you call after him as he leaves the kitchen while you sit at the table, looking out the window, feeling a bit dizzy.

♡♡♡

There couldn’t have been a better day for a pool party. The hot afternoon sun burned away the few clouds leaving the sky clear and blue. The red line on the thermometer hovers in the high eighties. Summer songs playing through the radio float in the air mixing with the sounds of your friends laughing and enjoying the pool.

The doorbell started ringing about an hour ago, with everyone showing up at roughly the same time. All of you had been relishing the beautiful weather and the company when you decided it was time to bring out the food. With your flip-flops clapping against the kitchen floor, you load up your arms with bowls of chips and fruit salad.

“I really like your suit,” Steve whispers as he leans toward you, picking up the tray of sandwiches he helped you put together earlier. The bikini you have on is not as modest as what Nancy and Robin are wearing. At first, you considered changing, worried that you looked a little slutty in comparison, but Steve and Eddie seemed to appreciate it, so you decided to just go with it.

“You aren’t looking so bad yourself,” you wink, taking in his board shorts and sun-kissed shoulders dotted with freckles, a few hours of sun already giving him a golden glow. He follows behind you, putting his tray on the table he’d set up near the house, and you’re almost instantly swarmed by hungry teenage boys - not shy about helping themselves.

Steve had returned from his meeting cautiously optimistic. The interview went well, and they will let him know if they plan on hiring him sometime this week. After he’d changed, you watched him from the kitchen window with a smile and heated cheeks as he pulled out more patio furniture for the party, muscles flexing, a little sweat running through the patch of chest hair. Besides adding extra loungers and deck chairs, he set up two bistro tables with green umbrellas at each end of the patio, creating two separate seating areas. And a separate table for food and a makeshift bar for drinks that Eddie was working at right now.

He also looks good, his hair tied back at the nape of his neck, his chest full of tattoos on full display as he fills a cooler with ice for soda and beer. Your fingers are very familiar with those smooth planes of pale skin and the way to get his muscles to jump under your touch. He finishes making sure cups, and more ice are easily accessible before taking care of the trash. Grabbing a can of spirit, he ambles over to one of the tables and sits down with a sigh wiping away a little sweat.

“Anyone want to light up?” Eddie asks, pulling a joint and a lighter from his half-empty pack of cigarettes.

“I’m in,” Jonathan waves a hand in the air, walking away from the small table on the other side of the patio, where he was eating with Nancy and Robin.

“Baby?” Eddie asks, eyeing you where you stand next to Steve, scooping some fruit into a paper bowl and handing it to Jane, who seems a little shy around you, but accepts it gratefully.

“Coming,” you call, handing Steve the spoon to finish serving alone, “What do you say, Robin?”

“Me?” Robin points to herself, surprised by your invitation.

“Yeah, I need a partner in crime,” you say, waving her over. Robin has been very kind, considering the sticky situation she’s gotten mixed up in, and you’ve really taken a shine to her. It was nice feeling like they weren’t just Eddie’s friends but yours as well.

“She can’t even be around a cigarette without passing out,” Steve teases as he fills his plate with food.

“This is better. All natural. Come on over, Buckley. I’ll teach you,” Eddie encourages, shooting a look at Steve.

“Okay, fine,” Robin acquiesces, getting up from her seat and carrying her plate to one of the trash cans.

“I’m not taking care of you if you don’t like it,” Steve warns as he passes her on his way to sit with Nancy.

“Yes, you will,” she says over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I will,” Steve laughs, taking a seat in her vacant chair and tucking into one of the sandwiches.

Cool water lands on your warm legs when Dustin splashes as you walk along the edge of the pool to the table where Eddie is sitting, “I thought you are supposed to be a good influence,” he scolds.

“Who told you that?” you laugh.

Kicking off your flip-flops, you let Eddie pull you into his lap, leaving the free seat for Robin. It’s nice to have your arm around his shoulder, his hand resting on your thigh. The distance between you has been growing. Mike tries to look inconspicuous as he meanders behind Robin, leaving Jane to join Dustin in the pool.

“I don’t think so, Mike,” Nancy says from her spot in the shade.

“Come on, Nance. You’re not mom,” Mike says, not even bothering to turn around to her as he speaks.

“Hey Eddie,” Nancy says, her voice sounding sinister, “do you remember what I keep in the shoebox in my closet?”

“Why, yes I do, lady Wheeler,” Eddie says sweetly, “Sorry, Mike. Maybe another time,” he waves the younger boy away. Nancy sips her drink with a satisfied smile.

“What’s she have in there, dude? Your balls?” Mike asks, clearly annoyed with Eddie siding with his sister.

“Your sister scares the shit out of me,” Eddie admits, “She could hide a body and never get caught.”

Jonathan chuckles at the assessment of his girlfriend while he sips his drink, “She definitely could.”

“Did you eat?” you ask Eddie as Robin settles herself in the seat beside you.

“I will after this,” he says, squeezing your hip, “You did a nice job getting everything ready.” Robin and Jonathan both shake their heads and murmur their agreement.

“Thanks,” you say, planting your lips on the apple of his cheek and appreciating his sweet compliment. His words have had a sharp edge since the day you purchased the car, and it’s been even colder in bed.

“Are you ready for this, Buckley?” Eddie smiles at her as he lights the joint and inhales, holding the smoke in before exhaling. He hands you the joint and explains the finer details to Robin as you take a long drag before passing it on to Jonathan. As you hold it in, the smoke swirls in your lungs, letting the effects lull you into calm.

Robin takes the smoking joint from Jonathan between two fingers and eyes it suspiciously before taking a small puff. She tries to hold in the smoke the way Eddie explained but ends up coughing it out. She hands the joint back to Eddie and continues hacking like a two-pack-a-day smoker. Jumping up, you grab a drink from the cooler, opening it before you set it in front of her and rub a circle on her back.

“How do you do that without coughing up a lung?” she asks once she’s caught her breath and chugged down the drink.

“It’s your first time. You’ll get used to it,” Eddie assures her as he passes the joint along, “You’re going to make it, right Buckley?”

“Nope. I’m done,” she says, getting up, “Let’s just get plastered next time,” she pats your shoulder.

“You got it. Sorry, Robin,” you say sheepishly. She waves you off and joins the others in the pool.

Taking her seat, you place your legs in Eddie’s lap. His elegant fingers wrap around your knee, occasionally smoothing their way up the length of your thigh as the three of you finish off the joint. Eddie and Jonathan are having an in-depth discussion on the quality of weed available in Hawkins compared to the west coast, but you tune them out, instead watching the younger kids’ antics. Mike is standing on the end of the diving board announcing the overly complicated dive he’s about to attempt, but then belly-flops into the water, splashing Jane as she bursts into giggles.

“I’m going to get some food,” Eddie says, gently nudging off your legs before standing. He leans down to brush your lips and surprises you by sliding his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Jonathan gets up and wanders back to Nancy, possibly feeling awkward witnessing the intimate moment.

Deciding not to stay at the table alone, you walk over to one of the loungers and stretch out, closing your eyes, letting the sun heat your skin, and the fuzzy edges of your brain push away any lingering worries as you enjoy the peaceful high. Someone takes the lounger beside you, and you don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s Steve.

“Stop,” your lips spread into a grin as you feel his eyes moving over your body.

“What?” his playful voice confirming your suspensions.

“You know what,” opening one eye, you peek at him in time to watch him push his sunglasses up his nose and stretch out his arms, muscles contracting as he locks them behind his head before he turns his face towards the sky, savoring the afternoon sun. The two of you don’t talk, pleased to just be near one another, listening to your friends’ conversations going on around you.

Nancy has been telling Robin about her college plans at Emerson and how she hopes Robin will come to visit when Mike and Eddie casually approach them. Mike tries pushing Nancy into the pool, but it ends up with both of them falling over the edge. Eddie simply picks up Robin and tosses her in before yelling a word of warning and cannonballing in after her. The pair have settled into a friendship akin to siblings, and you can’t help laughing watching them interact.

Steve turns his smiling face toward you after chuckling over their silliness. This is truly one of those times you wish you could freeze things as they are. The important people in your life gathered close on a summer day. His eyes hold yours, and you know what he’s thinking, this is the kind of life you could have together. Closing your eyes, you lean back and let your mind work on the answers. A few drops of water land on your stomach.

“Come in the water with me, baby,” Eddie calls from the pool.

Sitting up, you pull your knees up to your chest, “I’m not hot enough yet,” you watch him push his wet bangs off his face.

“You look plenty hot to me,” he wiggles his eyebrows, both his arms rest on the pavers that line the edge of the pool in front of your lounger.

Steve doesn’t move or turn his head, but you almost hear his thoughts asking you to stay with him, to choose him, while Eddie asks you to do the same. Stress returns, killing your high.

Pulling the scrunchie off your wrist, you tie up your hair before getting up to join Eddie in the pool. For the first time, you question whether your decision is based on your guilt for lying to him or because you want to be with him. You’re always hurting one of them, and you hate yourself for it.

Eddie takes your hand and pulls you through the water until your body is against his, and he can wrap his arms around you. Steve gets up and strides into the house, closing the slider with more force than usual. Eddie kisses you softly, and you smile, but you can’t help looking at the glass door that Steve just walked through.

Jane and Mike take up the loungers you and Steve had vacated while everyone else cools off in the water. Jonathan and Nancy are sharing a donut-shaped float kicking their feet gently to propel themselves around the pool, and Robin is trying to catch Dustin off guard, so she can dunk him.

“They make a cute couple,” you comment to Eddie as you watch Mike and Jane talking. He takes her hand and holds it across the space between their seats.

“You think?” Eddie follows your gaze considering your statement. There was something different about Jane that you found interesting. When you first met her, you mentioned it to Eddie, and he chalked it up to her being Hopper’s daughter, but you’re certain that’s not it.

“I’m going to go inside for a minute,” you say, untangling yourself from him, “I need the ladies.”

“You better go then. We don’t want any P in this ool,” he smacks your butt as you lift yourself out of the water.

“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh, grabbing a towel to dry off.

“You love it,” he says, turning back to the others, “Mike come here so I can drown you.”

Walking inside barefoot with a towel around your waist, you try not to drip water all over the floor as you look for Steve. He is in one of the downstairs bathrooms leaning against the vanity, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Your arms move around his waist from behind, and you place small kisses on his spine.

“I’m alright,” he says, covering one of your hands with his, “I just need…I don’t know what I need,” he turns in your arms and brushes your cheek, “Do you?”

You’re aware of what he’s asking, and you wish you could say what he wants to hear, “No,” you say gently, shaking your head.

“That’s okay,” he kisses your forehead, “You’re worth the wait.”

But as the guilt eats away at you like rust on metal, you’re starting to doubt if you’re worth it for either of them, “You’re catching some sun,” your hand runs down his chest, “Don’t let yourself burn, okay? I have to get back.”

A quick kiss ends your conversation, and you hurry back outside before you’re missed. Moving to the edge of the pool, you sit down on the pavers. Eddie comes to help you slip into the water. He wraps your legs around his waist, steers you down to the pool’s unoccupied end, and crowds you against the side.

“I’ve been wanting to get you alone all afternoon,” he licks away a drop of water clinging to your neck.

“Well, we aren’t exactly alone,” your hands move to his chest, trying to keep some space between you.

“Alone enough,” he argues, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You haven’t wanted me in days, and now that we’re in front of your friends, you can’t get enough?” you don’t bother hiding the irritation in your voice.

“You know how I get when I smoke,” his mouth presses against yours, “I’ve missed you,” his fingers move to your bottoms, tracing the edge down your thigh, in between your legs where he hooks a finger underneath, brushing it against your pussy.

“Don’t,” you say firmly, and his fingers retreat immediately. He holds his hands up in surrender and sulks down to the other end of the pool. Placing your hands flat on the edge of the pool, you boost yourself up to sit on the edge letting your feet dangle in the water. The woosh of the slider being opened has you turning your head to watch Steve come back outside wearing a t-shirt. The chair from one of the tables scrapes against the pavers as he drags it closer to the pool just behind you, where he sits, rejoining the group.

“Had enough sun?” Robin asks him as she pushes Dustin’s head below the water.

“Yeah,” Steve says, disinterested, “If you drown him, you can explain it to his mother.”

“Fine,” Robin groans as she lets Dustin up, and he sputters and immediately tries to return the favor.

“I can’t believe we’re finally done with high school,” Nancy says suddenly like she just realized it.

“That’s right. So long, Hawkins High!” Robin yells as she tries hiding from Dustin behind Eddie.

“I can’t believe I have to go to summer school,” Eddie raises his hands in a strangling motion.

“What for?” Nancy asks, trailing her hands through the water.

“Home Fucking Ec,” Eddie groans slinging an arm around Robin so Dustin will leave her alone. If Eddie himself hadn’t been enough to deter Dustin away from Robin, his announcement alone would have provided a distraction. He and Mike break out into fits of laughter at Eddie’s expense.

“How do you fail Home Ec?” Jonathan asks, joining in the laughter.

“I didn’t fail. I missed too many classes,” Eddie explains defensively.

“What are your plans after?” Nancy pushes a laughing Jonathan off the float and into the water.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Eddie shrugs.

“You should come work at Family Video,” Robin says excitedly, smacking Eddie’s chest.

“I already got a job, doll,” Eddie reminds her.

“How about something that won’t get you arrested,” Dustin says, raising an eyebrow.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Eddie shrugs.

Steve shifts in his chair, crossing his legs and shaking his head as a scoff rumbles from his throat.

“Something you want to say, Harrington?” Eddie raises his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun as he glares at Steve.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve answers, returning his look. The conversation comes to an uncomfortable halt as everyone senses the tension.

“So…um...Dustin, did you tell Eddie about the club?” Mike says, trying to move things along.

“No, I didn’t, Mike. And now might not be the best time,” Dustin says through gritted teeth.

“What about the club?” Eddie asks, drawing his eyebrows together.

“That asshole Kenny Carter is trying to convince Principal Higgins to cancel Hellfire so the chess club can use the drama room on Fridays,” Dustin splashes his hands on the water’s surface.

“But we’re not going to let it happen,” Mike says from his place on the lounger.

“I know you won’t,” Eddie places a hand on Dustin’s head, ruffling his curls, “You boys got to be careful. There’s always some dickhead trying to take what’s not theirs,” he casts a look in Steve’s direction.

“Does anyone want anything else to eat?” you shout, jumping to your feet before anything else can be said, “I’m going to start clearing some of this away.”

“I will help,” Jane joins you at the table, gathering the empty dishes.

“Thank you, Jane,” you say, handing her a stack of plates.

“Eddie, when are you playing again?” Robin distracts him, and you make a note to thank her later.

Using your chin to keep the dishes balanced, you nudge open the door and use your foot to slide it the rest of the way, “Just leave everything on the counter. I’ll sort it out later,” you instruct Jane as you dump everything on the kitchen island. Leaning your elbows against the countertop, you hang your head in your hands and let out a sigh. When you raise your head, Jane is watching you thoughtfully.

“Thanks again for your help. It was very kind of you to offer,” you force a small smile.

She turns to go, but just before she enters the sunroom, she looks back at you, “There’s more to life than stupid boys, you know?”

Blinking as you watch her leave through the slider, you think that might be the best advice you’ve ever received.

Everyone is out of the water when you return from inside. Steve and Eddie are at opposite ends of the patio. Ignoring both of them, you join Nancy and Dustin standing by the pool with towels wrapped around their middles.

“When do you leave for Boston?” you ask Nancy, interested in her plans. Boston would be a nice place to visit, especially if you were going to Maine.

“I’m not sure,” Nancy looks behind you towards Jonathan, He and Eddie are wandering over to join the conversation.

“Not sure about what?” Jonathan asks, taking a sip from the bottle of beer he’s holding and putting an arm around her shoulders.

“When we’re leaving,” Nancy explains as Eddie wraps his arms around you from behind. His wet curls brush against your face as he kisses your cheek, his hands are creeping higher up your body, and you cover them with your hands, stopping them from going any further.

“I want to wait until my mom and Hopper move into their new house. Make sure she and Will are settled in before we take off,” Jonathan offers.

“Where is Will today?” you inquire. Jonathan has just opened his mouth to answer when one of Eddie’s hands pushes past yours and lands on your breast. Blood rushes to your face, heating your cheeks. Jonathan and Nancy immediately look uncomfortable. Dustin starts turning his head, looking around the yard.

“Eddie,” you hiss, batting away his hand, “Stop, okay?”

“What?” he asks innocently.

Robin tries to step in front of Steve as he approaches from the side, “Jesus, Eddie. Tone it down, dude. You’re embarrassing her,” Steve criticizes, his hands on his hips.

The yard is suddenly quiet, the only noise the soft trickling from the pool filter.

“I think I’m ready to go. Can you give me a ride, Steve?” Robin places her hand on Steve’s arm.

“Yeah, okay,” with a last look at you, Steve lets Robin tug him toward the house.

Letting out the breath you’d been holding, you turn back to finish your conversation.

“That’s funny, Steve,” Eddie calls out to Steve’s retreating form. His voice dripping with sarcasm, “You didn’t seem to mind my tone when I was watching you fuck my girlfriend.”

Your mouth drops open, there’s a ringing in your ears, and a few things happen simultaneously. Jonathan starts coughing mid-sip of his beer while Nancy and Dustin’s eyes widen. Steve and Robin stop in their tracks, and Eddie stands there with a self-satisfied look on his face. He’s knocked back a few steps when you ram your shoulder into him as you run into the house, pushing past Steve and Robin.

The muffled sound of raised voice comes from the patio as you race up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door behind you. Sliding out the duffle you had stashed under the bed, you unzip and place it on top of the quilt before making trips back and forth from your dresser, filling it with your clothes. The bedroom door gently swings open, and Eddie enters, closing it behind him.

“What are you doing?” he looks around the room, confused.

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing, Eddie? I’m leaving,” you say, crossing into the bathroom to collect your toiletries.

“Baby, I know you’re mad-“

“Oh, I’m not mad. I’m furious,” you say, cutting him off as you come back into the room and dump everything on top of your clothes, probably getting gunk all over them, but that’s the least of your problems, “I have never been so embarrassed in my life.”

“It’s not that big a deal. Everyone already knows we have sex,” he crosses his arms over his chest, trying to excuse his actions.

“Yeah. They probably assumed I had sex with my boyfriend. Not that I let two guys take turns,” you pull on a pair of shorts over your still damp swim bottoms, ”I’m just starting to make friends with these people and now they think...I don’t know what they think. I don’t know what I would think if I was them, but it wouldn’t be good. You humiliated me because I didn’t want you feeling me up in front of Dustin.”

“That’s not what I was trying to do. Don’t worry. No one is going to think anything bad about you baby,” he steps toward you, but you retreat to the other side of the bed. His dismissive tone lets you know you’re not getting through to him.

You scoff, “Are you kidding me? Do you know what will happen if this gets around? You and Steve will get a pat on the back while I get labeled the town whore,” you pull a tee over your head, “Do you think you can imagine what that’s like, Eddie? When people judge you and whisper behind your back?” you try putting it in a way he can understand.

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” he says softly, looking at his feet, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“That’s right, Eddie. That’s the problem. You don’t think about me. You’re too busy having some kind of dick-measuring contest with Steve. Your *friend*, who, in case you forgot, is letting you live here for free,” you zip up the duffle and sling it over your shoulder before grabbing your purse and moving toward the door, but Eddie doesn’t budge.

“Move out of the way, Eddie.”

“Just wait,” he holds up his hands in front of him, “I’ll leave for a little while, and we can talk about it when I come back, okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m leaving. You need to move now.”

He moves to the side, and you storm past him, slamming the door behind you.

♡♡♡

If you squint your eyes just right, the bumps in the popcorn ceiling take on the shape of George Washington. Resisting the urge to scrape them off, you roll on your side and look down at your sister from the top bunk of the bed you’ve been sleeping in since turning up at your family’s home two days ago. Your mother explained that your bedroom had been converted into a sewing room as she put clean sheets on your sister’s bed. So when you haven’t been at work, you’ve been here, in your sister’s room, surrounded by posters of Corey Haim and Michael J. Fox, searching for meaning in the textured surface. A knock on the door jamb quiets your sister’s ever-moving mouth.

“Eddie wants to talk to you,” your mother says, leaning against the door jamb.

“I don’t want to talk to him,” you roll onto your back and search for other dead presidents.

“Well, you can tell him that yourself,” your mother says sternly, “Come on, let’s give them some privacy,” she waves your sister out of the room.

Eddie pokes his head through the doorway, looking around the room like it might be booby-trapped with girl things. Amusement and a long-suffering sigh take their turns on your lips as you climb down the ladder and close the door behind him. His hands tentatively reach for your hips. When you don’t protest, he pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you and presses his mouth to the side of your face.

“Are you still mad?” he asks quietly.

“No,” you say, savoring his warmth. His head dips to kiss you, but you lean away, “but that doesn’t mean I’m coming back.”

“What? Why?” his hands gently grip your biceps, “Don’t you love me anymore?” his brows pull together, and the sadness in his big doe eyes is enough to break your heart.

“That’s never been our problem,” you place your hand over his heart, “I just don’t know what we’re doing anymore?”

“You’ve changed so much,” he points out, looking away from you.

“That’s right, and I want you to change with me,” you tap his chest, “I’ve been waiting around for you for the last year.”

“I’ve been in school,” he says defensively.

“There’s always something. Some excuse you have to kick the can down the road,” you take hold of his arm when he tries to step away from you, “I want to start my life. I don’t want to spend my twenties waiting for you to get your shit together.”

“What do you want to do that I’m holding you back from?” he asks with a trace of sarcasm.

“I don’t know, but I thought we would be figuring that out together. You don’t think about me when you make your decisions. I’m just there, somewhere in the background. I can’t build my life around you.”

“So, you don’t know what you want, but you know it’s not me, it’s that it?” he scoffs. His face falls when you don’t answer.

“Look, I’m going to go,” he sniffs, his eyes getting glossy, “We can talk again later.”

“Okay,” you wrap your arms around his middle, but he doesn’t hug you back, and when he walks out the door, you let him go.

♡♡♡

Three more red x’s have marked the calendar since Eddie’s visit, and you miss him - you miss both of them, but you’re still no closer to a decision. It’s different being in your family home after months away. The rooms seem smaller - more crowded, causing you to feel more like a guest, like you don’t quite belong. There’s a slight smudge to the black text printed in today’s Hawkins post, like the typeset was just a little off at the printers. Your finger smooths down the neat rows of the classifieds, only stopping on the boxes that read ‘apartment for rent’.

Your mother walks into the kitchen carrying a bag of groceries, looking over your shoulder at the newspaper, “There’s a boy in the driveway,” she says like it’s a regular occurrence.

“Who? Eddie?” you question as she puts a milk carton in the fridge.

“No. Not Eddie. The other one with the hair. It’s like these boys today are afraid of the barber,” she muses, but you’re already out the door.

Steve doesn’t move from his spot as he watches you walk down the driveway. Sunglasses hide his eyes as he stands with hands in the pockets of his expensive jeans, a white t-shirt stretched over his chest.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, hitching your thumb toward the house.

“I want to talk,” he states with an unreadable expression.

“Then come inside,” you turn and walk back toward the house, looking over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you.

“Out,” you say to your sister as you and Steve step into her bedroom. With a sigh befitting a pre-teen girl, she peels herself off the floor, taking her magazine with her, and stomps out, slamming the door behind her.

Steve steps around you and pulls out the tiny chair of the vanity. He sits and takes off his glasses. Folding down the arms, he hooks them on the front of his shirt before leaning forward and rubbing his hands together.

“Steve,” you begin but stop when he raises his head. There’s a blue tinge to the skin underneath his eyes. A pang of guilt resounds inside you, knowing you are likely the cause of his lack of sleep.

“You left me,” he says quietly, “You left me without even saying goodbye.”

Tears prickle behind your eyes, and you’re embarrassed by your selfishness, “I’m so sorry,” you swipe at the first tear spilling over your eyelid, “I couldn’t stay with the way things are between you and Eddie.”

“I know why you did it,” he stands and walks to you, cradling your face in his hands. He uses his thumb to brush away another tear, “It just….hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, looking into his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” he tips your head back and presses his warm lips to yours in a succession of light kisses, “I’ve missed you,” he breathes out between kisses, “Come home with me.”

“I can’t,” your fingers grip the fabric of the back of his shirt, “You and Eddie-“

“We worked it out,” his hands smooth down your neck until they’re wrapped around your shoulders.

“How did you do that?” your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“We’re guys,” he shrugs, “We grunted a few times and called it good.”

“And how do I explain going back with you?”

He steps back and puts a hand on his hip while the other pinches the bridge of his nose, “He asked me to come to talk to you.”

“What?” you ask, your mouth dropping open.

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” he pulls you against him, “I want you with me. I want to come home to you.”

“Steve, do you know how messed up that is? You want me to go back to my boyfriend so we can keep cheating?” you pull away from him.

“Then we’ll tell him,” he calmly crosses his arms over his chest.

“No,” you say, stepping back, ”He doesn’t have anyone or any place to go. I can’t hurt him like that. And I don’t know...I haven’t-“

“He can keep the goddamn house. We’ll find someplace else,” he says heatedly.

“Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, we can’t live together. We barely knew each other four months ago,” you say, scrubbing your hands over your face wondering if your hesitation stems from practicality or your reluctance to let Eddie go.

“Why not?” he asks, stepping closer, “I know I love you. I’d marry you tomorrow if that’s what you want.”

Inhaling a sharp breath, you feel like the earth has just tilted in its axis, “Whoa,” you press your hand to your forehead, “that’s way too much. This is crazy.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out a defeated sigh, “I don’t mean to pressure you. I want you to understand that I know what I want, and time isn’t going to change that. I want a future with you. I got the job at the community center. I’m ready to start my life and put everything else behind me.”

The same words had come out of your mouth just a few days ago when you were talking to Eddie. This is what you wanted. What’s holding you back?

“You say that, but you’re going to wake up one morning and think of the friends you’ve lost and the people we’ve hurt, and you’ll resent me. You just can’t see it yet.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” he takes both your hands in his, “I don’t know what to say to convince you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“I wish I could be as sure as you,” your voice breaks, and your eyes fill.

“You aren’t coming home,” he says sadly. When you nod your head, his arms go around you.

“Just tell me you love me,” he says against your temple, ”it will be enough for now.”

“I love you so much,” your tears are leaving spots on his shirt, but you don’t want him to let you go. He kisses you until your eyes are dry, light brushes of his mouth meant to comfort, not demand, but after he’s gone and you press your face into your pillow, and the tears start again.

♡♡♡

“Goodnight,” you call over your shoulder, a week later, to the few remaining people at Enzo’s who are taking their time wiping down tables while enjoying a glass of wine from the bar. A round of “see ya laters” follows you as you push through the heavy front door onto the quiet sidewalk. The temperature dropped after the sun went down, and you wish you’d had the foresight to grab a sweatshirt. Fumbling through your purse and looking for your keys, you don’t immediately notice the gray van parked next to your Cutlass as you enter the employee parking area.

Eddie is leaning against the dented side panel, and he smiles when your eyes connect. A warmth washes over you as you return his smile.

“Rough night?” he asks, gesturing to your shirt that’s covered in tomato sauce from your collar to the hem.

“Yeah,” you say, pulling it away from your body, “I think I might not be cut out to be a waitress at an Italian restaurant.”

“Well, that’s okay,” he says reassuringly, “Sometimes you have to give things a try to figure out they aren’t meant for you.”

Inhaling a deep breath, your lungs fill with the cool night air, and you wonder if his words hold a deeper meaning.

“Listen,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, “I talked to everyone from the party. No one is going to say anything, I promise.”

“Thank you,” you swallow and give him a smile.

“I don’t want anyone talking bad about you. Especially because of me,” he says the last part quietly, looking down at his shoes, kicking a few pebbles on the asphalt, “And I want you to know I’ve thought about what you said,” he sniffs and looks around the nearly empty lot, “I’m going to try really hard not to be such a shitty boyfriend. You deserve better.”

“Eddie, you’ve never been a shitty boyfriend,” hot tears are prickling behind your eyes, and you twist the strap of your bag in your hand.

“No. You were right-“

“No. I was too hard on you. You were right, I have changed, and not all of it has been a good thing,” your eyes burn as the tears flow unrestrained, “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, what are you sorry for?” his voice is cracking, and it’s killing you.

“For all the things I’ve done to hurt you. Can you forgive me?”

“Baby, I love you. There’s nothing to forgive,” his hands twitch at his sides before he places them tentatively on your arms like he might not have permission to touch you.

Your heart aches. The guilt is breaking you. Dropping your purse, you wrap yourself around him, clinging to him as you cry, knowing you don’t deserve forgiveness, or Eddie, or Steve. You’re so very tired of crying, and you want to let him make it all better - let him love you. He squeezes you tightly and lets you sob while rocking you from side to side under the yellowish glow cast by the floodlight that buzzes at the edge of the building.

“I’ve missed you,” you say when you’re able to speak without hiccupping, your face hot and swollen.

“You have?” his surprise sounds genuine.

“Of course I have,” you lean back to look up at his face and wipe your nose on the back of your hand.

“I miss you too,” he uses his fingers to wipe away some of the wetness on your face, “I’ve had a hard time falling asleep without you. I’ve gotten used to your cold feet on my legs.”

Fisting the front of his shirt, you giggle, “Good to know.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

Nodding, you stretch on your toes meeting him halfway. His kiss feels like coming home. Every touch and taste are familiar. Warm lips staving off the chill of guilt. His hands move to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Light contented sighs escaping through the gaps.

“Come home with me,” he requests with closed eyes, mouth still moving against yours.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Come home to stay.”

He pulls you tighter, his kiss becomes demanding, and you can’t refuse - you don’t want to.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His lips pull tight as he smiles against you and prints three more kisses on your mouth before finally pulling back.

“Can we leave your car here? I’ll bring you back tomorrow, and we can pick up your stuff,” he says with all the excitement of a boy on Christmas morning.

“That sounds good,” you say, just as eager. He bends to pick up your purse and moves to open the van’s passenger door. After helping you in, he runs around to his side. Turning off the tape deck before turning on the engine, he drives you back to Steve’s, holding your hand the entire way.

The van sputters and comes to a stop in Steve’s driveway. Eddie slips off his seatbelt and leans toward you, with a hand on the back of your head, he places a cloud-soft kiss on your lips, and you let yourself sink in.

“Let’s not bother Steve. I want you all to myself tonight,” he says while stroking your cheek. A tightness constricts around your heart. Some part of him knows he’s missing a piece of you.

With his warm hand holding yours, he leads you quietly through the dark house until he can close you in your room, shutting out everything and everyone creating a span of existence for just the two of you. And when your mouths meet, you give him everything you have left.

His grip on you tightens, and he purrs his appreciation when you tilt your head, giving his access to your neck. “Mmmmm, you taste like garlic bread,” he says hotly against your skin.

Pulling back, you cover your face with your hands while your body shakes with laughter.

“What?” he says, confused, “I like garlic bread.”

“I think I need a shower,” you step closer and put your hands on his chest.

“Is that right? Did I tell you what happened in Home Ec. today?” he asks, kneading your hips.

“No,” you make your eyes wide and shake your head.

“It was terrible. I opened a container of flour, and it got all over me,” he looks away but peeks at you under his lashes to see if his ploy is working.

“That is terrible,” you say feigning sympathy while he nods his head in agreement, “I guess you need a shower too.”

“Do you think there’s enough room in there for two?” his hands glide from your hips to your ass, and his fingers press into your flesh as he pulls you tightly against the hard length trapped in his jeans.

“I think we could make that work,” your arms circle his neck.

His mouth comes down on yours in a frenzy of hungry kisses as he walks you backward into the bathroom. The air gets thick and heavy when you turn on the faucet in the shower, adjusting the temperature while Eddie takes off his belt and pants. Steam billows around the small room, and your skirt barely hits the floor when Eddie pushes you into the shower with him, both of you still mostly dressed. Passionate kisses mingle with laughter as the hot water plasters your hair to your cheeks and turns your white shirt transparent.

“Everything’s better when you’re with me,” he says, pulling your drenched shirt over your head. Every sweet word feels like a nail pushing through your heart, but you try to push away the guilt, just for tonight. He kneels as he works your wet panties down your legs and buries his face in your center. His warm tongue parts your folds as you tip your head back into the spray.

“Eddie,” moaning, you tangle your fingers in his damp hair, smoothing it back from his face. A tiny yelp bursts from your mouth and echoes against the tiles when his teeth nip your thigh before he kisses his way back up your body.

“Now that’s much tastier than garlic bread,” he says, making you laugh as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, which ends up in a pile in the corner of the shower along with his shirt.

“Let’s make sure all the flour gets rinsed off,” you say cheekily as you switch places, putting him under the spray. Your fingers grip the hem of his boxers, pushing them down his legs before kicking them into the corner. Leaning forward, you press a kiss to the center of his chest just above his heart and pick up the bar of soap that sits on the recessed shelf. Suds drip down your wrist while you rub the bar soap in your hands, working up a bubbly lather and letting it dribble down his smooth chest to where his hard cock rests proudly against his belly. Tiny drops of water cling to his lashes, his dark eyes watching you as you replace the bar and stroke your slick hands down his chest until one is swirling around his balls and the other pumping his very ready, swollen dick.

“Fuck, baby… don’t stop,” he backs you both out of the spray and picks up the soap to take his turn, spreading the iridescent foam over your breasts, teasing your nipples into taunt peaks.

“Does it feel good?” you coo, using both hands on him, twisting them with each tug. Already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it with the pleasure‐drunk look on his face while he kneads your tits.

“Nothing has ever felt as good as you,” he breathes out before sealing his mouth over yours and backing you against the cool tiles. He pulls your hands off him, intertwining your fingers and holding them to the wall beside your head. He rubs his body against yours while you kiss, skin slicked and sliding, soft bubbles popping between you. He quickly turns, rinsing the front of his body in the steaming water.

“Put your foot on the ledge,” he encourages, wrapping his hand around your knee to support you, spreading your legs wide.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks, spitting into his hand to lube his cock.

“Mmmm, so ready,” you hum, catching your lip between your teeth.

Your moans mix like the parts of a song as he pushes all the way in until he bottoms out inside you.

“I missed you so much. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been inside you,” he rasps, his forehead pressed against yours while he gives you a moment to adjust.

“Then let’s make it last,” you drape an arm over his shoulder. He thrusts in a slow rhythm gathering your free hand to press back beside your head, locking your fingers. His kisses match his pace, and he takes his time tasting you while the pleasure blooms from where you’re joined.

The steam gets thicker, making your lungs feel heavy as you fill them with deep gasps while rolling your hips to meet every stroke. Sweat beads on his skin, rivulets running down his chest disappearing between your bodies. Tension builds in you, his measured pace starts feeling torturous - you need more. The muscles in your arm strain as you try pressing back against the hand holding you to the wall, wanting to break free and pull him into you harder. He slides his fingers down, circling your wrist, using his strength to keep you in place.

“Do you need something, baby?,” he asks sweetly, dipping his head to lick your neck, “You just have to tell me,” he slows further, and you try bucking your hips, but this position has you pinned.

“I need you to fuck me,” you mewl.

“I am,” he teases, a smirk twisting his lips, “I’m gonna make you come…eventually. That’s what you want, right?” he dots your face with tiny kisses. Your lips chase his, but he pulls back too quickly.

“Eddie,” you shake your head with a frustrated smile, “you’re making me crazy.”

“I’ll do anything you want, my love. Just say it,” he chuckles.

“Fine,” you drop your head back against the tile so you can look into those mischievous eyes, “I want you to fuck me hard with your big cock..pleazzze,” you make your eyes big and stretch out the last word like a petulant child.

“It is big, isn’t it?” he laughs.

Before you can think of a clever response, he pulls out and spins you around, tugging back your hips and driving into you hard.

“Yes,” you cry, pushing back into him, bracing your hands in front of you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room as his hips piston forcefully against your ass, punishing your gummy walls, and hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back. One of his hands glides around your waist and moves lower until his long, calloused fingers are circling your clit, while the other palms your breast catching your nipple between his fingers. Electricity is zapping under your skin everywhere he’s touching you, shooting you up the slope toward your climax.

“Are you going to come, baby? Go ahead, be a good girl and come on my dick.”

His words have you flying over the edge. He holds you up as your legs tremble, and your inner walls pulse around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries, pushing you forward. Freezing water hits the back of your legs and has you both scrambling out laughing. He reaches back in and shuts off the water.

“Oh, you didn’t get to come?” you tut, sticking out your lower lip, looking at his red, angry dick, “That’s too bad,” you wrap a towel around your body and open the door that leads back into your bedroom.

“Baby? You’re not that mean. Are you?”

You laugh as he chases you into the bedroom.

♡♡♡

Eddie’s arm was tightly around you when you woke the next morning. Placing your hand on top of his, you slide your hand back and forth, gently waking him.

“Hmmm, this is a good dream I’m having,” he says, kissing your neck and snuggling closer.

“It’s going to be a wet dream if I don’t get to the bathroom,” you say, patting the hand and pressing on your stomach.

“Say no more,” he raises his arm, so you can slide out of bed.

“I’m going to go get the coffee started,” you say once you’re finished in the bathroom, and he’s passing you on the way to take his turn.

“I’m right behind you,” he says, closing the door.

Quickly, you dig through the clean laundry basket until you find the light blue tee you are looking for and hurriedly pull it over your head. It slides down to about mid-thigh, covering you enough to walk through the house. The house is quiet as you make your way down the carpeted stairs. Nerves are dancing in your belly, you swallow them down and make your way to the kitchen. Your breath catches when you see Steve standing at the island, hair askew, light stubble coating his jaw. His lips part when he sees you, and his expression is unreadable. Standing in the doorway, you nervously play with the hem of your shirt.

“You’re back,” he says, leaning both hands on the counter. You nod and look down at your toes, wiggling them on the cold tile. His face falls, “You came back with Eddie.”

Again you nod, and you can hear Eddie coming down the stairs toward you. Your mouth opens to say something, but Steve’s lips pull into a bright smile, “You’re wearing my shirt.”

Dropping the material, you return his smile just as Eddie comes in behind you.

“Good job, Munson. Finally wised up and brought her home,” Steve says, turning his back to pull three mugs from the cabinet, “Thank Christ, I was getting tired of your burnt cooking.”

“Hey, I thought I did a good job,” Eddie says, moving to the coffee pot and filling the mugs, “You said you liked the way I filled out that frilly apron.”

Steve pulls the creamer from the fridge giving you a wink, while Eddie spoons some sugar into the mugs.

“What do you guys want for breakfast?” you ask, finding your voice.

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie says, bringing two of the mugs to the table, “you’re not cooking for us your first day back. Come sit down.”

“Okay,” you say with a little uncertainty as you move across the kitchen and sit at the table.

Steve pulls a loaf of bread from the pantry and hands it to Eddie before taking two bananas from the fruit bowl. He snags his coffee and sets one of the bananas in front of you before taking a seat at the table.

Eddie loads the toaster and dusts his hands off, “What’s next? Oh!” he raises a finger in the air and moves to the pantry, “What kind of cereal, baby? We’re out of fruit loops. There’s Frankenberry or Kix. I think there’s some of that Müselix in the back, but I don’t recommend it,” he says scrunching his face.

“Umm, Kix, please,” you say, amused. Eddie has made meals for you a time or two before, and you always appreciate it, but he’s never been quite this doting.

“Excellent choice. I’m going with the Frankenberry myself,” he says, going about putting together breakfast.

“Your car’s not in the driveway,” Steve notes, breaking the end off his banana and popping it in his mouth.

“I left it at Enzo’s,” you break the stem on your piece of fruit.

“I’m going to take her back later so she can go get her stuff,” Eddie says, setting down your breakfast in front of you and kissing your cheek.

“Thank you,” you squeeze his hand, and he turns to retrieve his own dish.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the three of you, an occasional slurp of pink milk from Eddie highlighting the quiet.

“What?” Eddie asks as you watch him use his spoon to separate the marshmallows from the cereal bits, “I like to save the monsters for last.”

Laughing, you slice the rest of your banana and add it to your cereal.

“Now that’s weird,” Steve says, gesturing to your bowl as he stands and retrieves the peanut butter from the pantry.

“Everyone puts bananas in their cereal,” you say before taking a bite.

“Umm. No, they don’t,” Eddie says, around a mouth full of cereal, “It’s gross, baby.”

“Is this how it is going to be now? You two teaming up against me?” you tease, sipping your coffee.

“Afraid so,” Steve says, putting some bread down to toast.

“Sorry,” Eddie drinks the rest of his milk from the bowl and wipes his chin on a napkin, “Steve’s my best girl now.”

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve rolls his eyes, picking up the newspaper from the island and sitting down at the table to wait for his toast.

“We better get going. I have to stop by Ricks after I take you to your car, and then I have a few drops to make,” Eddie says, pushing back from the table and bringing his dishes to the sink, “I’ll be back in a few hours, baby,” he moves back to the table and leans down to give Steve’s cheek a kiss.

“Get out of here,” Steve says, pushing him away.

Eddie manages to plant one on the top of Steve’s head, “He’s just playing hard to get,” he says, making you giggle around your last bite of toast.

Eddie snaps his fingers, “Are you going to be around tonight, Harrington?”

“Try and kiss me all you want, but I’m not going to sleep with you, Eddie,” Steve deadpans, not looking up from the newspaper.

“How about a few video rentals then?” Eddie asks. Steve lowers the paper to hear him out.

“I’ll bring home pizza and some weed. We can all get blazed and watch a movie. Give my girl a proper welcome home.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting high,” Steve says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sound good to you, baby?” Eddie asks as you load the dishwasher.

“Yeah, sure. I’m game if that’s what you both want,” your stomach fills with dread knowing you can’t keep doing this. The lying, the pretending, the betrayal. Crimes committed for the sake of a love that’s ripping you to shreds. There won’t be enough of you left for either of them. A love that made you too weak to stay away.

“Don’t get Top Gun. I can’t watch that sad shit after smoking,” Eddie’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Fine. But no onions on the pizza this time,” Steve points his finger at Eddie, “I could smell your breath from across the room.”

“Whatever gets me in your pants, Harrington,” Eddie says, winking at him. Soliciting an eye roll from Steve before he goes back to his paper, seemingly disinterested.

Eddie’s hand on your waist guides you toward the hall, “That’s not my shirt,” his eyebrows draw together, and he looks at you questioningly.

“Oh, it’s not?” you look down and smooth the material on your thighs, “It was in our basket. It must have gotten mixed in.”

“We got to get you some pajamas, baby,” Eddie comments, taking your hand and walking ahead of you. Risking a look over your shoulder, you meet Steve’s gaze as Eddie tows you from the room.

♡♡♡

After Eddie dropped you off, you drove around town before heading to your house. Now you're sitting on the bottom bunk of your sister’s bed, staring at the packed duffle sitting on the floor.

“Are you sure?” your mother asked when you told her you were moving back to Steve’s, “This is your home. You can stay as long as you like,” she reminded you.

“I’m sure,” you replied, not meeting her eyes, knowing you are far from being sure. It didn’t take you long to pack. Most of your things are still at Steve’s. They’ll be expecting you soon, but you can’t seem to get your feet to carry you from the room, choosing instead to tally up all the things you’ve done. Feeling worse that, given the opportunity, you might not change a thing. You’re hurtling toward disaster, and dragging your feet won’t save anyone.

Eddie’s van is in the driveway when you get to Steve’s house. Their voices carry from the kitchen as you toe off your shoes in the foyer and set your bag on the stairs.

“I was just about to call your mom’s,” Eddie says, coming around the corner and wrapping his arms around you.

“Sorry. I had a few things to take care of,” you feel older and more worn down with each lie.

“I put the pizza in the oven to keep it warm,” he says, kissing your nose, “Are you ready to burn one?”

“I’m going to go change and unpack. I’ll be quick,” you pull away from him and head up the stairs.

“Okay, but don’t take too long. You know how whiney Steve gets when he’s hungry,” Eddie calls after you.

“Fuck off, Munson,” Steve yells from the kitchen.

Shaking your head, you turn to look at Eddie,

“See,” he says, pointing toward the kitchen before disappearing around the corner.

Both boys are sitting at one of the bistro tables out on the patio when you join them, wearing a long-sleeved tee and a pair of Eddie’s boxers rolled up around your waist. The sun is just starting to dip below the tree line leaving the air chilled, and the sky streaked with orange and purple. A small sandwich bag of weed is on the table in front of Eddie, along with a lighter and some rolling papers.

“There she is,” Eddie says as you sit in the remaining chair between them.

“Okay,” Eddie slaps his hands together and rubs them back and forth like Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid, before opening the baggie, “Rick gave me this shit to sample. It’s a new strain. He said to be careful because it will lay you out. So, take it easy, baby. I don’t want you freaking out,” he sprinkles the weed across the paper before starting to roll it, “You can do what you like, Harrington, but you’ve been warned.”

“I don’t freak out,” you pout, crossing your arms. Eddie’s mouth drops open, and he pauses to give you a skeptical look. So you repeat yourself with more conviction, “I don’t.”

“I’ve got to hear this,” Steve leans forward, resting his clasped hands on the table.

“Well, let’s see,” Eddie licks the edge to seal it, “There was that time you thought your hand was stuck to your forehead, and I had to rip it off.”

Steve throws his head back, laughing.

“That was one time,” you scoff.

“And that time you cried because you were thinking about how one day I’ll be an old man with gray hair,” Eddie says as his long fingers twist the ends of the joint.

“That’s very sad,” Steve says, shoulders shaking as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, and that time you made me sit still for an hour while you drew my portrait, and it was just a stick figure. I should have known when you were giggling the whole time.”

“Hold on,” you slap your hand down on the table, “that was you, not me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eddie shakes his head at you.

“I know it was you because the stick figure had enormous boobs,” you accuse.

A smug grin spreads across Eddie’s face, “Okay. Maybe that one was me,” he chuckles, “But I wasn’t the one who was dead set on the stars being tiny people that spy on us when we’re doing it outside.”

Shaking your head, you glare at Eddie. Steve’s elbows are on the table, his head is in his hands, and he can’t stop laughing.

“Are you going to keep running your mouth, or are you going to light that thing?” you ask, trying really hard to hide your smile.

“Your wish is my command,” Eddie says before sparking his lighter.

The conversation tapers off as you pass the joint around, letting the thick smoke do its work. Eddie was right. The weed is more potent than what you’re used to. After a few times around, you and Steve both decide you’ve had enough and let Eddie finish it off by himself.

The katydids and crickets have woken up. Their chirping and shrill squeaks are joined by the chants of the Whippoorwill, signaling the end of another long summer day. The familiar head and body buzz creeps in, loosening the tension as you watch the lightning bugs dancing at the edge of the woods.

“I need to eat,” Steve says, slapping a hand over his flat stomach, his eyes looking glassy.

“Yes!” Eddie raises his arm, pointer finger extended to the sky, “Excellent idea, Steve,” he says, standing up and slipping his lighter and papers back into his pocket, “Ready to eat, baby?” he tugs you from your seat and into his arms, his soft lips start working their way down your temple, “I’m so glad you’re home,” his mouth moves over yours, and you open for him, letting him deepen the kiss.

The glass slider leading into the sunroom is closed so hard it bounces off the frame, and the noise has you startling in Eddie’s arms.

“Uh-oh. Princess Harrington is testy. We better go in,” Eddie pecks your forehead.

Something doesn’t smell right when the two of you enter the kitchen. Steve is standing in front of the oven with a charred pizza box in his oven-mitt-covered hand.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “You have to take the pizza out of the box before you put it in the oven or at least not set the temperature to inferno hot.”

“Oops,” Eddie looks at the box sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you try and fail to hold back the giggles bubbling out of you.

“She’s wasted,” Steve says, tossing the blackened box onto the stovetop.

“You’re one to talk,” you say, squeezing into the space between Steve and the stove, “Your eyes are bright red,” you pull out a pair of tongs from the ceramic utensil holder on the countertop and use them to flip open the box. Steve’s hand goes to your hip as he peers into the box from over your shoulder.

“The pizza looks fine,” you quickly step to the side out of Steve’s reach and open the cupboard to take out some plates and glasses.

“Thank fuck, I don’t have another ten dollars to spend on pizza,” Eddie says, taking a plate from your hand, “What did you get for movies?” he asks Steve.

“Hoosiers and One Crazy Summer,” Steve says, lifting out a slice from the box. Strings of melted cheese stretch between the slice and the rest of the pizza. Steve drops it on his plate and shakes out his burnt fingers.

“Basketball? Really, Steve?” Eddie asks, using the tongs to load his plate and drop a slice onto yours.

“Where’s your state pride?” Steve asks, reaching over you for one of the glasses of ice water you just poured and heading toward the living room, “I like basketball.”

“Of course you do,” Eddie says, following behind him.

Shaking your head and grabbing a few napkins from the basket on the island, you take your dinner with you, following the sound of their bickering.

The Harrington living room is arranged in a typical conversation style. An oversized couch with a dark wooden coffee table in front of it, flanked on either side by cozy deep, seated chairs. The lamp in the foyer has been left on to provide some extra illumination to the dark room, the flickering light from the tv providing the rest. Steve is sitting on one end of the large sofa fast, forwarding through the copyright warnings while Eddie bites into his pizza sitting at the other end. Passing out the napkins, you warily eye the free seat in between them, but there isn’t enough weed in the world to make that look like a good idea. Placing your glass on one of the coasters scattered on the coffee table, you opt for one of the overstuffed chairs.

A sad gray hippo wanders down the street, and John Cusack ponders the wisdom of love while you eat your pizza. The empty plates get stacked on the table, and you tuck your legs under you, angling your body to watch the story of Hoops finding love and figuring out his future play out on the TV screen. The occasional chuckles from the boys are more likely due to their altered state than slapstick comedy. One movie ends, and another gets turned on, but your hazy brain isn’t keeping up with the plot. Eddie’s soft snores start about three-quarters into Hoosiers, the strong weed and the sports movie knocking him out. His head is tipped back against the couch with his mouth slightly agape while Steve’s full attention is on Gene Hackman.

The gears in your brain start turning, trying to find a resolution to the questions plaguing you. Steve and Eddie are entirely different from each other, opposites in most ways. Loving Eddie is like a roller coaster, thrilling highs dipping into lows and back up again with impossible speed. Drifting through life with him would be a hell of a ride, but one that could be stuck on the same circular track. It will always be you dragging him through life’s big milestones. More than likely, you’ll end up supporting him and anyone else that comes along if you decide to have a family. But there won’t be any shortage of love and if your relationship survives this storm, you can probably survive anything.

Steve’s love is like the ocean, vast and strong. He’d be devoted, like the tide, carrying you through life with your feet never touching the sand, never letting you fall. He’d give you everything he has without a second thought, but that kind of all-encompassing love could be stifling. It could pull you under the surface if you don’t have space to make mistakes and solve them on your own. Without a doubt, he would work hard to care for you and make you happy, possibly at his own expense. Deep down, you fear a love born out of betrayal can’t be one that lasts.

Lost in your thoughts, it took a moment to notice Steve returning your stare, his hazel eyes soft but wanting. He runs a hand through his hair, making a decision. He stands and quietly moves until he’s standing in front of you, his chest rising and falling in short breaths.

The light fog swirling in your brain turns into wisps of confusion when he drops to his knees in front of you. His eyes close as he leans forward and lays his head in your lap. The tip of his nose runs up your thigh, the light stubble on his cheek a delicious scrap on your skin as he nuzzles against you.

He needs your touch. It’s such a simple request. If the room wasn’t so quiet you would’ve missed the soft sigh he releases when your hands move through his hair, brushing it back from his temples. His arms circle around you, his large hands squeezing between your back and the chair, fingers sliding under your shirt so his thumbs can rub circles on your skin.

His head moves against you like a gentle wave, a light press of his warm lips, a slight swell in the tide. Your fingers tremble as they smooth the soft strands at the base of his neck, apprehension taking hold at the abrupt recognition of how much he needs you. He lifts his head, and your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I love you,” floats out on an exhale of breath before the barest brush of his lips turns into a slow deep kiss. His hands grip the hem of your boxers, giving them a sharp tug, pulling them down in the back until he’s stopped by the weight of your hips.

Kiss-swollen lips move to your ear, “I’m going to taste you.”

His words leave you tingling. Lifting your hips, you let him slide the fabric down your legs taking your underwear with them. He glances over at Eddie as he pulls you to the edge of the chair and drapes one of your legs over his shoulder. A finger raised to his lips warns you to be quiet. His eyes darken when he sees the glossy coating of wetness already glazing your center.

Biting down on your lip, you watch as he takes his first long lick with the flat of his tongue before he begins lazily making out with your pussy. He places wet, sucking kisses through your folds, pausing to use his tongue to tease your entrance while his nose bumps against your clit. The wet sounds he’s making aren’t masked by the white noise of the TV. Eddie stirs in his sleep, and you freeze. He can’t find out like this. Steve looks up, and you shake your head. He stands, wiping the wetness off his chin before he extends his hand to you.

He leads you down the dark hall, pausing to push you against the wall and kiss you, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy like another kind of drug. He eases open the door to his father’s office, flips on the lights, and ushers you inside before turning to lock the door. While his back is turned, you take the opportunity to rid yourself of your shirt, glad that you hadn’t bothered with a bra. When he turns and sees you naked and offering yourself, something passes over his face that has your breathing coming faster. He stalks forward, but his touch is gentle, hands caressing every bit of skin he can reach while he occupies your mouth with his demanding lips.

“Next time, I want you in my bed,” he says, moving you into the room and lifting you to the edge of the massive desk, the polished cherry wood satiny against your skin. His possessive need to claim you weighs heavy but has your stomach tightening with arousal. The idea feels like a fairytale - to actually be just his.

“Do you want me to finish what I started?” he asks, pulling his shirt over his head.

Your hands are drawn to his chest like a bee landing on a flower, your fingertips running through the bristly hair, exploring the dips of his muscles.

“No. I want to feel all of you,” you answer by drawing him closer so you can kiss the freckles and flat moles that dot his skin like destinations on a map. All places you want to explore. His arms go around you, letting you give as much as you want, and in this moment, you wish you could give him everything.

He guides you back until you’re lying flat on the desk. The scent of leather and ink rises from the blotter under your head. His big hands return to your thighs, the rest of his clothes now gone, his cock is at your entrance.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he says as he waits for your gaze to push inside you. The intensity of his eyes spread into an open forest of mossy green, being chased by the golden hues of autumn. Penetrating you two ways-your body, and your heart.

His hands hold your hips steady as he begins to move. Unhurried strokes fill you to completeness, wave after wave of warm pleasure cascading through you. The wisps of smoke still circulating in your brain have slowed things down, and every touch is a dream you want to get lost in. His hands roam as you adjust and tilt your hips to meet him.

“Every day,” his flat palm sweeps upward between the valley of your breasts, “I want you like this every day.”

“Mmm, me too,” you capture his fingertips and press them to your lips before sucking them into your mouth. His eyes roll back, and his other hand tightens his grip on your thigh as he drives into you harder.

“I need more,” he says, tipping his head back, “I want you closer,” he pulls out and helps you off the desk.

“I can make you happy if you’d let me,” he takes your hand as he sinks down onto a plush club chair. The rich leather creaks under your knees as they push into the cushion on either side of his legs as you straddle him.

“You do make me happy,” you keep your mouth on his, swallowing his moan as you take him inside you, sliding down his length until you’re fully seated, “Now I’m going to make you happy,” gripping the back of the chair, you lift your hips and drive them down. Both of you expending effort to muffle the moans caused by the euphoria of your connection. He cups your breast, and his mouth laves attention on your aching, taut nipple as you work your hips, the head of cock hitting the best spot every time.

“That’s it. You feel so fucking good,” he moves his hands to your ass, encouraging your movements, “I wanted to touch you since this morning, and now I never want to stop,” his mouth devours yours, his tongue tasting and exploring like a man starved. Desperately, you whimper into his mouth as he starts driving his hips up from below you setting you on a path toward release.

“I love you,” you sigh between sloppy kisses, eliciting a low groan, “I missed you so much,” you confess feeling like a balloon caught up in a wind that’s moving higher and higher into the stratosphere.

“I love you so much,” he rasps as he throbs and swells inside you, “I need you to come for me,” his tempo rises, and he’s hitting you deeper and harder than before. Your inner muscles tighten around him as your craving to be filled by him takes over. The first hot spurt against your cervix has you shuddering and falling back to earth as more of his warmth fills you and aids his last frenzied strokes. Little shocks and jolts tingle inside you as you crumple into his arms, legs still shaking, completely spent, floating in a cloud of bliss. His hands stroke up and down your back, your head rests on his shoulder, the rest of you pressed against his sweat-slicked chest, feeling it rise and fall as he catches his breath. Your mouths find each other, languid kisses help you come down together. Steve holds an invisible string to your heart that keeps pulling you closer to him and away from Eddie, a game of yo-yo you will never win.

“That was-,” he kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you.

“I know,” you say, certain you’re feeling everything he is. It was some of the most intense sex of your life. Kissing him once more, you start to pull back.

“Not yet. Just stay with me another minute,” he pleads.

“I have to go shower before….” you trail off, hating that you’re thinking about Eddie while Steve is still inside you.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he confesses, “I thought I could, but I can’t keep watching him touch you, not after this. There isn’t a way this ends without him being hurt. I think you know that.”

“I do. I’m so sorry. I know it isn’t fair. Soon I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, helping you off him. After you’re dressed, he stays to clean up while you quietly sneak past a sleeping Eddie. Once the water in your shower is running, you let out a sigh of relief, you could have been caught at any moment tonight. Steve is right. This can’t keep going on. Putting soap on a washcloth, you shower off one boy so you can go to bed with the other.

♡♡♡

Clarity doesn’t come that night or the next day or the next. In fact you’re more torn than ever. The only decision you’re certain about is trying to find another job. Afternoons have been spent driving around Hawkins and the surrounding towns following the help wanted ads in the newspaper that you have circled with red ink. Busy days followed by waitressing in the evenings has kept you away from both boys, but today is your day off so after filling out a few applications, you make your way back to Steve’s house.

There is a dark stain in the driveway where Eddie’s van is usually parked as you pass by it with an arm full of groceries. Stacks of papers are spread out on the tabletop with a tired looking Steve sitting behind them. He’s been reading up on the proposed programs that the town wants the new community center to offer. He has to meet with the board members at the end of the week to discuss the best ways to utilize the interior space for the new building and you know he’s feeling a little out of his depth. His elbows are on the table and he’s using two fingers to rub his temples.

“Do you have another headache?” you leave the bag of groceries on the island before walking over to kiss him hello.

“Yeah,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss, “It's been happening when I’ve been reading for awhile.”

“Maybe you need glasses,” you shrug, noting the tylenol bottle sitting beside a half full glass of water.

“Glasses? I’m not an old man or a nerd,” he says, sounding offended.

“Steve,” you roll your eyes, “plenty of people that aren’t old or nerds wear glasses. Besides,” you run your hands through his hair, “I think you would look sexy with glasses.”

“Is that right?” he asks, pulling you onto his lap, “Well, I’ll have to consider it then,” he brushes his lips over yours.

“Do you want to take a break after I get the groceries put away? I’m going to watch a little TV before I make dinner.”

“Definitely,” he says, squeezing your hip.

After the bag is unpacked Steve follows you into the living room, plonking down on the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you start flipping through the channels.

“What do you want to watch?” you ask snuggling into his side.

“I don’t care. I’ll probably end up closing my eyes for a while.”

“Are you sure you aren’t an old man?” you tease, before settling on a rerun of The Brady Bunch.

“When is Eddie coming home?” he asks, looking at his watch.

“He has band practice tonight. So not till later,” you say with a yawn, “See what you started,” you complain feeling sleepy now that you're tucked into his warmth as Alice cleans up after the rowdy house full of kids.

“Just watch your show and give an old man some peace,” he teases, kissing the side of your head.

The whooshing sound from the TV is what woke you. The faint light from the snow filled screen barely illuminates the room. One of Steve's hands is tangled in your hair, cradling your head where it rests somewhere between his shoulder and his neck. The clean laundry scent of his shirt mixes with the citrus and cedar that clings pleasantly to his skin making you absolutely dizzy with every inhale. In your sleep your bodies have found their way together, possibly at your heart's behest. Every innocent intention inevitably ends with you wrapped in his arms and the way he feels right now, so good and so warm, has you wondering why you would ever want to stop it.

His eyes flutter open as if your thoughts have somehow woken him. Your hand moves to the side of his face, your thumb brushing back and forth over the light stubble on his jaw. His eyes are asking you a question that you can’t answer with a word. The pouty curve of his full bottom lip is too much to resist, your mouth closes over it in a slow sweet kiss. Just once turns into twice and three times before the fuse is lit and your hungry mouths start to feverishly devour. Gasps and hums join the symphony of your kisses. With a quick move, you’re beneath him,his long body stretched over yours. A low groan travels from his throat into your mouth when your hips rock against him in a desperate plea for more. A strong grip on your thigh molds your leg around his waist bringing his rigid length to perfect alignment with your hot core. Kiss swollen lips slide urgently against each other as your clothed bodies rock together.

"Let's go to my room," his hand works its way under shirt, his thumb rubbing against the peak of your nipple.

"Don't stop," you plead, bucking against him, moaning as his hard bulge hits your clit with every grind.

“Jesus. Can you come like this?” he whispers against your mouth.

“Yes. I’m so close,” you beg. The light in the foyer turns on suddenly. Shock rockets through you. Somehow you missed the sound of the door opening. It takes a few moments for your bodies to stop after your minds register what's happened. Steve moves off you as Eddie stands in the doorway.

"What the fuck?" Eddie says, sounding genuinely confused as he comes further into the living room, the light from the hall seeping in behind him. Steve's moving towards him, both hands raised in front of his body stopping just after rounding the arm of the couch, not letting Eddie gain any more ground, while you scramble up further into the room, backing away from both of them. The endless static still buzzing from the TV adding to the chaos.

"What the fuck?" this time he screams, his face turning red. He brings the heels of his hands to his forehead and paces back and forth, his shadow following him, as he tries to come to terms with your betrayal, "I fucking knew it," he says in a calm tone as if he's speaking to himself.

His hands drop to his sides and stops moving staring at you, "I fucking knew," he yells, leaning forward his whole body raising to his toes with the force of his words, "I didn't want to believe it. I can't believe you could do this to me," he stretches out the end of the last word, balling his fists.

Your trembling hands cover your mouth as your eyes fill with tears. There's nothing you can say to make this right. His anguish hits you like a tornado, sucking you empty and filling you with a guilt so heavy, you might burst at the seams.

"It wasn't like that," Steve says in a low voice.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Eddie spits, turning his attention to Steve. Eddie's on him in flash, both fists gripping Steve's shirt collar, his red face inches from Steve, "I trusted you. You son of a bitch," his arm cocks back, hand bunched into a fist, ready to fly.

Steve's hands go up in surrender, he turns his face to the side, eyes closed ready to take the punch, "Go ahead, I deserve it. I'm not going to fight you, dude, but it wasn't like that. I love her."

"You're fucking her," Eddie yells.

"I love her," Steve says again, eyes meeting Eddie's when the punch doesn’t come.

Eddie lowers his hand back to Steve's collar, pulling him forward before pushing him away with enough force to send Steve backward over the arm of the couch.

"We tried to stay away from each other," Steve straightens up and rubs his chest over his heart, "We didn't want to hurt you, but I love her."

"That's just fucking great," Eddies voice drips with sarcasm, "And what about you?" he asks, turning towards you, "Do you love him?"

His voice breaks at the end of his question, even in the faint light you can see his big doe eyes getting glossy. Regrets are stacking up like a wooden block tower, ready to crush you when they fall.

"I love you" you sob, taking a step forward, putting you all at the same distance apart. They both look at you knowing you have more to say, "but I love Steve too."

The room feels like a vacuum, all the air leaves with those last four words. Eddie crosses his arms over his stomach, bending forward like he's been punched.

"I feel sick," he says, turning away from you both. Your feet start to carry you towards him but Steve holds up his hand to stop you.

"How could you do this to me, man," Eddie shakes his head before turning back to Steve, "I thought you were different but it turns out I was right the first time," Eddie moves toward him, getting in his face, "You have everything. This house, cool car, money. I don't have anything, except her," he raises an arm pointing to you, "You could have anyone you want. They practically line up for King Steve."

Steve is trying to stay calm, but something is changing in his expression, his jaw clenches tighter as he stands tall letting Eddie yell only inches away.

"You had your pick," Eddie gets louder, standing so close the tips of their sneakers are touching, "but you had to take her from me. The one person in this world that loves me. You can't stand not having everything. So you take her and leave me with no-"

"Take her," Steve snaps, screaming back at him, walking forward making Eddie step back, "You fucking gave her to me," Steve puts both hands on Eddie's chest shoving him back hard. Eddie stumbles but quickly regains his balance. The shocked look on his face, saying he's just realized he's had a part to play in all this.

Eddie places his hands on his hips and looks down at his feet, "How many times?"

"What?" Steve asks brows drawing together in confusion as he takes deep breaths.

"How many times did you fuck my girlfriend?" Eddie demands, lifting his head but keeping his distance, "Or is it too many to count?" he scoffs, shaking his head.

Steve looks down and then glances at you before answering, "Twice," he at least owes Eddie the truth. Eddie takes a step toward you and so does Steve.

"That night he picked you up at the restaurant?" Eddie questions you.

Swallowing and wiping some wetness on the back of your hand, you nod. Hot tears still stream down your face but somewhere inside you there's relief - no more lies.

"You lied right to my face," Eddie fumes, moving towards you. Steve takes a few steps to the side putting himself in Eddie’s path with you behind him. Eddie keeps advancing, "You need to decide, right now. It's him or me," he barks.

Eddie’s eyebrows lower and lips tighten as he realizes Steve is not letting him get any closer to you.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eddie challenges.

Steve's hands are at his sides but there's a tremor running through them as he opens and closes his fists, "Back up," he growls through gritted teeth.

"Eddie-" you try cooling things down only to be cut off.

"You think I'm gonna hurt her?" Eddie says astonished, "I would never fucking hurt her. You should know that after what we've been through. After we fought together."

Steve doesn't answer but his breathing sounds labored.

"Steve, it's alright," you soothe, stepping towards him but stopping short of boxing him in.

"You think I could hurt a woman after watching Chrissy die right in front of me," Eddie probes, "You saw the blood. You know what he did to her. What he did to me and Max."

Your mouth drops open, you've never heard any of this. Steve backs away from Eddie shaking his head as if to clear it.

"You know what we had to do to kill him. You remember that, right?" Eddie pushes, "All the screaming. All their pain."

Steve stumbles back, his breathing picking up and getting shallow as his hands cover his ears.

"Eddie, you fucking stop it," you move forward, pushing Eddie away from Steve before running to the wall and turning on the light switch. Steve goes down on one knee, his head drooping down. Moving back to him, you put your arm around him trying to hold him steady as he hyperventilates.

"Eddie, who killed Chrissy?" you ask. His eyes snap from Steve to you. This is the closest you've come to any answers, "Who did you kill?" the question chills you as it leaves your mouth.

Eddie's face hardens, his warm eyes turn cold as his lips pull into a tight line, "Ask him," he nods his head in Steve's direction.

Steve continues to panic and you turn back to him, dropping down to your knees, holding him against you as you hear the front door slam behind Eddie.

"It's okay. You're alright," you cup his jaw and try to break through to him, "It's just me and you. We're safe. Put your head in my lap," you say, easing him down to the floor.

♡♡♡

It's the mourning doves coos that wake you. There's a small group of them that gather on the patio in the mornings. Their white tipped wings flutter as they descend, singing out their sad song until their wings are tucked against their bodies and they begin their search for food. Their call makes you wonder who they mourn for, or are they here to remind you of what you've lost.

Blue-green morning light filters through the blinds in Steve's bedroom, the plaid wallpaper making the room feel smaller than it should. Your head rests on his bare chest, both his arms holding you close, his deep even breaths fanning over the top of your head.

Eddie hadn't come home last night and it wouldn't have changed anything if he had. Steve had needed you more. He was exhausted when he finally had calmed, his head in your lap while you stroked his hair. He apologized over and over as you led him to his room but there was nothing to be sorry for. He watched as you stripped down to your underwear before joining him in bed. It wasn't about sex, it was about solace, needing the feel of each other. He held you as you slept, reaching for you whenever your bodies weren't connected.

When his hold on you tightens, you know he's awake.

"I've wanted this for so long," his voice is rough and heavy with sleep but also yearning, "To wake up with you. But last night is not how I wanted to get here."

"I know," you press a kiss to his chest and run your hands over the soft skin covering his muscles, "Me neither."

"I hate that I couldn't protect you," his voice quieter than it was before.

"There was nothing you needed to protect me from," you say, raising your head to look at him.

"This time," he breaks your gaze and stares up at the ceiling.

"Can you tell me about it?"

"No," he looks back at you, the burden he's carrying making him look older at that moment.

"Steve-"

"I know. Later. I want to enjoy this a little longer, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," you say, sharing a kiss before rolling over and his arms pull you snugly against him. Sleep wanders in and you both doze for a few more hours.

"So, what happens now?" he asks, sitting up in bed with the blankets gathered at his waist while you pull on the t-shirt and shorts you had been wearing yesterday.

"I have to go," you say, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him.

"How did I know you were going say that?" one side of his mouth quirks as he shakes his head and looks around the room, “Everytime I think we’re getting somewhere, you leave.”

"Eddie doesn't have anywhere else to go. He probably slept in his van or on the floor at Wayne’s," you reach out and take his hand, “He won’t come back if he knows I’m here.”

“Eddie is a grown man,” he pulls his hand away and gets out of bed, putting on his boxers followed by a pair of jeans,”He has to stand on his own feet some time.”

“So what? He should lose everything in one fell swoop? He doesn’t deserve that,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“He is not the only one hurting here. I’ve stepped aside this whole time. Turned my head when he kissed you and touched you. And it ripped my heart out every time,” he pushes his sleep-mussed hair back off his forehead and sits down on the edge of the bed, “I love you and you love me. At least, that’s what you’ve been telling me.”

“I do love you,” you argue, “It would be so much simpler if I didn’t. Do you think I would put us through this otherwise?” you take both of his hands in yours, “I love you.”

“Then don’t we deserve a chance to be together? To be happy? When you think of your future I know you see us together just like I do. We’ll have a good life together but I need you here with me.”

“Let me ask you something,” you say, lacing your fingers with his, “How are you always so sure we’re going to end up together?”

He shrugs before giving you an answer, “I love you. I just can’t think any other way.”

“Then you’re going to have to wait for me a little longer.”

Leaning forward you place a chaste kiss on his mouth, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” he replies.

“I need you to talk with someone about the panic attacks,” you state simply. He shakes his head and looks away from you.

“There has to be someone who was there that will understand,” you push.

“I can’t lay this on them,” he argues, “They need me to keep it together.”

“What about Chief Hopper?” you propose, “Wasn’t he in the war or something? He’s probably seen this before.”

“How do you know about Hopper?”

“After what he did for Eddie. The way you’ve mentioned him. I figured it out,” you lightly squeeze his hand between yours, “I think one of the reasons I haven’t been able to decide is because I’m worried about what will happen to both of you. So, will you do that for me? Will you speak with him?”

“If that’s what you want,” his grip tightens on your fingers, “But let me ask you something. Have you considered that Eddie might not want to be with you anymore?”

Nodding your head, you blow out a deep breath, “I still need to decide,” you try and explain, “Would you want me by default?”

He tugs you closer and you let him pull you against his chest, “I love you. I want you to choose me but I’ll take you anyway I can have you, because I know you love me too. But if that's something you can't give me, I love you enough to let you go.”

But that's not what you want, you don't want him to let you go, not now and maybe not ever. He holds you until you can’t put off what you have to do any longer - you love him and you're leaving him again. With tears in your eyes you pack your things. All of them. This will be the last time you're in the room you've shared with Eddie. No matter who you choose, your time here is done. It may be the last time you're in this house. Steve waits for you at the bottom of the stairs. He takes the duffle from your hands and carries it out to your car.

“It’s going to feel empty here without you,” he says as the two of you stand in front of your car saying your goodbyes.

Sucking in a shuddering breath you say something you’ve needed to say to him for a long while, “I’m sorry. I hate that I’ve hurt you.”

His big hands move to your neck, he thumbs smooth along your jaw, “Sweetheart, being with you has been worth it. I knew I was in trouble from the first time you came down wearing my shirt.”

A grin tugs at the corners of your lips, “I love you.”

“I know. I love you too. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Please,” you say. His mouth brushes over yours one last time before you get in your car. Hot tears stream down your cheeks as you watch him in your review until you turn out of sight.

♡♡♡

Your mother finds you sobbing in your car when she pulls in the driveway after taking your sister to the orthodontist. She wraps an arm around your waist and urges you into the house, bringing you straight into her room and closing the door.

“It’s time to tell me what’s going on,” she says, sitting down next to you on her bed. So you tell her. The whole story. Well almost the whole story you leave out the threesome and any other sex, and drinking and smoking. After that, it really doesn’t take you very long at all.

“Christ on a cracker, that’s a fine kettle of fish,” she says when you're done.

“What do I do, Mom? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” you say, wiping your eyes.

“You’re a big girl. You’ll have to decide this on your own,” she pushes your hair back off your shoulders, “but if you really love both of them. I think you’re going to have to decide who you can’t live without.”

♡♡♡

Putting a cardboard box into your trunk a week later, you smile as the familiar rumble of a loud engine accompanied by even louder music reaches your ears. You straighten up just in time to watch Eddie park his van on the street in front of your house.

"Moving out?" Eddie teases, as he comes to stand beside you in front of your open trunk that's loaded with boxes.

"Yeah. I am," you wipe your sweaty hands on the front of your shorts.

"Oh shit, you really are? I was joking," he rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Yeah. I found a place I can afford. I think it might be good to be on my own for once," you explain. It's time to choose yourself for a little while.

"Do you need any help?" he asks looking down as he kicks the pavement with the toe off his white Reebok.

"That would be great. Do you want to follow me?" you question, pointing to your car with your thumb.

"Okay. Sure," he perks up and closes your trunk before jogging back to his van. The nervous tension between you feels like pins being driven into your heart. Both of you are unsure how to proceed after you've hurt him so badly. All week you've wanted to go to him, even going as far as driving by Gareth's when the band had practice, but ultimately what he needed, just like you, was space to make his own decision.

Eddie follows you up the stairs on the side of the garage, carrying a box of mismatched dishes your mother gave you. The windchimes attached to the underneath of the landing gently tinkle out a soothing tune.

"I can't believe you're renting from Mrs. Landry," Eddie says as he waits for you to unlock the door, "English sophomore year was brutal. She hated me."

"Well, you need to remember to turn down the music before you pull in or she still will," your key turns in the lock and the wooden door protests as you ease it open.The warm summer breeze blows through the windows of your small studio apartment. The sheer curtains billowing around the boxes you have yet to unpack.

"You can set that down wherever you can find space," you offer, setting the box of linens down on the mattress of your unmade bed. He slides the box on to your tiny kitchen counter before he starts poking around the room.

"This is pretty nice," he sticks out his bottom lip nodding his head as he looks around.

"Beggars can't be choosers," you shrug, taking a seat on the worn couch that came with the apartment. The dated furniture is a far cry from what was in Steve's six bedroom, six bathroom house.

"I'm serious. This is a big step. I'm proud of you, baby."

The term of endearment gives you a small flutter of hope that maybe all is not lost between you. He pauses in front of your refrigerator checking out the photos that are held up with magnets.

“Family photo,” he quips, flicking a polaroid of you, him and Steve that Dustin snapped at the pool party before everything went bad. The three of you looked happy then.

“Does Harrington know you're here?” he asks, lifting the flap of a box that's stacked on top of a few others.

“Yes,” you fold an afghan and drape it over the back of the couch, “The two of you aren’t talking?”

“No, we are. Just not about you,” he wanders over to sit next to you and you nod in understanding.

“Eddie, I need you to know the biggest regret of my life will be hurting you. You didn’t deserve it and I’m so very sorry,” your eyes are already getting glossy but you need him to know.

“Yeah, well you know, I shouldn’t have pushed you towards him,” he says, picking at a button that is sewed onto the back of the couch.

“It’s not your fault. It might have happened anyway,” you say, trying to be truthful.

“It’s not the sex. It's the lying,” he says, finally looking straight at you.

“I know,” you can’t hold back the tears, “I made so many mistakes.”

“Well, I’ve made a few myself,” he picks up the box of tissues from a table at the end of the couch and offers you one, “We had fun, though. Didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did,” you say, taking a tissue from the box and mopping the wetness from your puffy face. He waits patiently for you to pull yourself together.

“So why did you come to see me?” you ask, getting up to throw out the tissue. When you sit back down, you tuck your hands under your thighs to keep from touching him.

“I had a couple of things to tell you,” he pulls a lighter from his pocket, opening and closing it a few times before stuffing back in.

“Okay,” you encourage him.

“Nothing ever happened between me and Chrissy. There was some flirting, at least on my part. She was at the trailer because I was going to sell to her. Some of the hard stuff. I know you don’t like it,” he wipes his hands on the front of his ripped jeans, “I don’t get that kind of attention from girls like her. But if something had happened, I’m not sure I would have stopped it.”

“What does that mean, girls like her?”

“It means nice girls. Girls like you.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you say, swallowing, your leg bouncing up and down, “Can you tell me what else happened?”

“Not yet,” he says, shaking his head, “Maybe not ever. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to move on."

"Okay, what was the other thing you wanted to say?" you ask suddenly eager for this to be over so you can cry all alone.

"That's the harder one," he looks around your apartment again, then down at his lap - maybe to gather his words or his courage. He finally lifts his head, "You broke my heart and you did it more than once."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you cover your face with your hands, losing the battle to hold back your sobs.

"I don't know if I can ever trust you again," his voice cracks, "But for some stupid reason, I still love you."

Leaning forward, you fall against him and his arms work their way around you.

"I've never stopped loving you," you cry into his shoulder, "but I've ruined us. I don't deserve you."

"Maybe," he sniffs and can feel him wiping away his own tears, "but I still want you."

His admission has you crying harder, partly because you're about to break his heart again.

"I'm not going to lie to you anymore, I can't give you that, not right now. I need more time."

He gently pushes your shoulders, easing you away so he can see your face, "Because of him?"

Wiping your eyes, you nod.

"I don't understand," he says shaking his head, "You either love him or you love me. How can you not know?"

"I'm sorry," you agonize, "I don't know why it's like this. I can't help how I feel."

"Neither can I. And I'm certain I love you, only you. If you can love me, only me, we can work through this, okay? But baby, you've got to figure your shit out."

"I'm trying. I promise, I'm trying," wiping your swollen eyes as you cry.

"Alright," he sighs, "I need to go."

He stands to leave and you walk him to the door. He draws in a long breath before inclining his head to kiss you, "That wasn't goodbye, okay? That was see you later."

"Okay," you wrap your arms around him, "See you later," you say against his cheek. He hugs you back before he walks out the door.

♡♡♡

And life moves on. The rest of your boxes get unpacked and you get used to going to bed alone. You're offered a job as secretary at a new office that just opened in Kerly. The pay and hours are better and you don't come home covered in pasta. Eddie and Steve both come by often. Once they even came together, wanting you to know any hard feelings are behind them. You've met them each for lunches and sometimes dinner, casual dates, just spending time together.

Eddie's summer class is wrapping up and he's making plans with Jeff to share an apartment. He's even put some applications in looking for some regular work, you suspect Wayne might be the driving force behind that decision but a step forward is a step forward.

Steve is working part time at Family Video and part time with the town while the community center is under construction. He's struggled a little with some aspects of his new role but the head of the rec department has taken him under his wing and is showing him the ropes. Undoubtedly, he'll be successful, he just won't think any other way.

Being on your own has been tough and sometimes lonely but it's given you the space to get to know yourself and enjoy your own company. Forgiving yourself has been the most difficult but possibly the most important thing you've done. Slowly, you've let go of the guilt.

Then, one ordinary summer morning, you woke with the sun streaming through the curtains and your alarm blaring. In your haze of sleep, you forgot that you were alone and reached for him. When all your hand found was the cool softness of a well worn sheet, you knew exactly who you were reaching for, the one you couldn't live without.

The heels of your shoes clack against the busy sidewalk as you walk the two blocks to the restaurant. Your feet will likely be aching by the end of the day but you wanted to dress up for your lunch date. Men in suits and groups of women dressed in business attire walk quickly making the most of every minute of their lunch hour. The upscale dinner's entrance is on the corner of two intersecting streets of the downtown. Walking past the people eating at teal outdoor tables with bright yellow umbrellas, you push against the brushed metal handle of the heavy door, a bell jingles above your head and you're immediately greeted by the smell of fried potatoes, eggs and burgers. Standing just inside the entrance you wait patiently to be seated.

Letting one of them go was more painful then you could have imagined. The grief and loss leaving scars behind that will never let you forget. But when it was done, you could see his relief in being set free. He took a part of your heart with him when he left, a piece that belonged solely to him, a sliver you'll always be missing. Whether he puts it in a drawer or carries it with him, it's his to do with as he pleases.

"Just one today, hun?" a waitress in teal dress and white apron grabs a matching teal menu from a pocket attached to the back of the first high-back booth lining the wall.

"Two, please. He'll be right along," you tell her, already feeling happier that you'll soon be with him.

Strangely, after everything, moving forward slowly seemed like the best decision for both of you, cementing your love into a strong foundation before taking the next step - this is how you build a life.

She leads you past the lunch counter lined with occupied vinyl upholstered stools and globe pendant lights hanging intermittently above it to a booth pressed up against the enormous plate glass window looking out onto the hectic street.

A set of bright white coffee mugs resting upside-down on their saucers are joined by shiny metal silverware wrapped neatly in napkins on the lacquered wooden table top.

"Coffee?" she asks after she waits for you to slide onto the tufted vinyl bench seat.

"Just water, please," you say, accepting the menu she hands you. She places another on the table in front of the empty seat across from you before carrying your mug and saucer away with her.

You've kept your apartment for now but he stays over frequently. And In the quietest part of the night with the moonlight illuminating his beautiful face, he holds you close, keeping you warm, and together you make your plans.

Setting your menu down on the table-for once you already know what you want, you turn your head to daydream while you watch the people pass by on the street. A mother with a baby in her arms and a small child at her side meet up with a man in a shirt and tie. He leans down and kisses her cheek before lifting the toddler up into his arms and the family changes direction heading towards the park.

It was always going to be him and some part of you knew it from the very first kiss but now you're ready to give him the best of you, willingly, unencumbered and completely.

The song playing on the radio ends and the DJ laments the approaching end of summer reminding everyone listening that with every end comes a new beginning before starting the next song, and you can't help thinking he was talking directly to you. The bell above the door chimes as it opens and you feel your cheeks rising when you see the top of a familiar head come through the door. His eyes move quickly searching for you and you hold your hand up in a wave when they connect with yours.

As he walks towards you, the smile that he wears just for you makes everyone and everything fade into the periphery and you're filled with a love so big you're not sure how your body is containing it. Your hands itch to touch him, knowing that after everything - you're his and only his and he is yours. All the fears you had are blown away in the wind, like a dandelion letting go of its seeds - leaving only the possibilities of what can be remaining. In the aftermath of disaster, betrayal, love lost and love found, the long road of your future stretches out in front of you, and although you won't always be able to see what's around the next curve, you'll travel that road with him.

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this fic, please reblog. It makes a big difference in helping others find my work. Drop a comment I'd love to hear from you.

AN: Endings are always bittersweet. Thanks for being on this ride with me, it's been an emotional one. Who did you see come through the door at the diner? Let me know in the comments. Special thanks to @loveshotzz who always pulls out my best writing and the rest of the hive @myobmaya @boomhauer @superblysubpar As always Jelly's after-hours answering service will be available to answer all your asks. xoxo -A

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#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steddie series #steddie fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x fem #eddie munson x fem #aftermath

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chloecherrysip · 1 year

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all the pain will change into a memory of when we were amazing (mario & luigi-centric post-movie fic, part 1!)

(My weekend got a little busier than I was expecting, but I was still DETERMINED to get this up today and hey, I succeeded!!! I will eventually post an AO3 version as well, so if you'd like to wait for that, you can (and I will of course link it here), but sharing on tumblr is just a little easier for me to start out with. :)

Remember that this is just the first part and there will be at least two or three more coming soon!! Like I've already said in other posts, this fic has become SO LONG that it needs to be split up a little just for ease of reading. The title comes from the song Casey by Darren Hayes, which for the record, is a song about siblings and really fits movie!verse Mario & Luigi's relationship, in my eyes. Also, just so you know, this part (and only this part) has some Mario/Peach moments as well! I hope you enjoy!)

It took roughly eleven hours to put Brooklyn back together.

Not to how it was before, just to be clear. Not even close. Just enough that you could no longer tell right away that it had been subjected to a catastrophic tear between dimensions or alternate realities or whatever the two worlds were in relation to one another — who even knew? Instead, it looked more like it had suffered a few earthquakes in quick succession, or a hurricane closely followed by a tornado for good measure. Y’know, normal disasters.

It would no doubt require weeks of work to fix the cracked roads, replace all the crushed cars, reassemble the shopfronts enough to reopen and finally, finally get rid of all the black chunks of molten rock and huge mushroom stalks that were still being found in the strangest crevices and alleyways. But there was a lot to be extremely grateful for too. It was an outright miracle that Bowser’s airship had happened to crash down into the empty construction site mere minutes before the workers were scheduled to get started, somehow missing all occupied buildings. Everyone on the block was unhurt and accounted for, and they all still had a mostly-intact place to sleep that night. That, Mario reasoned, was more than good enough for now.

He’d jumped headfirst into helping with the emergency cleanup efforts as best he could, of course. It was the very least he could do after unintentionally causing the whole mess to begin with, and Luigi had jumped right in alongside him, ready to go. The star had worn off — even if Mario was still seeing glimmering afterimages of rainbows in the corners of his eyes every time he blinked — but it seemed like there were some lingering aftereffects. They felt better than ever, every injury down to the slightest bruise or cut completely healed, an overflow of joyful energy humming pleasantly all through his core. Mario guessed it was some kinda mixture of leftover magic and his own adrenaline and relief, which probably could have kept him going strong for a long time all on its own. They’d actually made it home. They’d seen their parents and family again. His brother was back within arm's reach, smiling and solidly warm and safe. How could he not feel like he was on top of the world?

So they’d spent the rest of the day working with neighbors to clear debris and shattered glass, move cars safely out of the way that were too crushed to move on their own any longer, nail up boards to cover gaps where windows once were. There were various damaged water fixtures and pipes that desperately needed some TLC before they came entirely undone and caused more damage (thankfully, Mario knew two talented plumbers who were more than up to the task). And of course, there was the not-so-small matter of rounding up all of Bowser’s minions and stuffing them back through the pipe before they snuck further into the city and started causing mass chaos. Most of that went smoothly, thankfully (other than one notable incident of some Koopas messing around at a bowling alley and accidentally getting stuck in the ball return). The magician in the blue robe, the one with the wand, had vanished entirely, though. Luigi had been the first one to notice, nervously mentioning that he’d seemed important, like a second-in-command to Bowser. Mario didn’t like that one bit, but Peach reassured him that they would stay vigilant.

Speaking of Peach, she’d taken charge of the chaotic situation right away, her leadership skills shining bright in a way that left Mario quietly in awe. She’d personally overseen Bowser’s transfer and imprisonment back in the Mushroom Kingdom while also coordinating efforts on both sides of the warp pipe, DK and Toad providing support as they all passed back and forth between worlds several times throughout the day, transporting as much of Bowser’s broken-up airship back to where it came from as possible. Toad Town was still a mess from the invasion as well, and many of the Toads who’d evacuated needed to be helped back from the forests. Mario had only spent a little time there, but thinking about such a lively, cheerful place in abandoned disarray troubled him. He considered going back for a little while to help out there too, just to make sure everyone got home safe.

But the familiar warp pipe loomed before them, and Luigi’s smile strained. Mario, hand lightly pressed to his brother’s back, registered the sudden, new tenseness, the way his breathing became shallower, despite his best efforts to not let it show. And there was Mario’s answer. He wouldn’t put Luigi through that again, not so soon, and if Luigi wasn’t going, Mario wasn’t going — end of story. The thought of being an entire world away from him after everything they’d just struggled through, even briefly, was too much to handle. All day, that uneasiness had hung around him, the one wrinkle in his light-as-air happiness and boundless energy. He hadn’t even liked Luigi being out of his sight for too long as they worked on the cleanup, which he fully knew was silly and unreasonable. That was why he'd never breathed a word of the feeling outload, even when the discomfort settled in heavily like a bad stomachache.

It'll get better once a little more time goes by, Mario kept insisting to himself with a sure, stubborn forcefulness. What's there to be worried about? We made it, both of us. We're together. Everything's gonna be okay. It really is.

“Don’t worry! We’ve got it all under control,” Peach reassured him. “I promise. The Kongs are helping, and so are the penguins from the Ice Kingdom. We’re going to work with them to rebuild their castle as well. On the bright side, I think our alliances will be much, much stronger after this mess.”

“Are ya sure?” Mario couldn’t help but press, interlacing his fingers tightly. “I dunno, I just feel like I need to do something. If it wasn’t for you, all of you, I wouldn’t have gotten to Luigi in time.”

“Oh, and like you didn’t do even more to help us?” She gave the brim of his cap a flick that was somehow both playful and graceful. “Mario, you and your brother stopped Bowser in his tracks. Both of our worlds are safe from him now because of you two. If anything, we owe you! Toad was already talking about organizing a parade, or giving you both a chest of gold coins!”

“What? No, no, who needs all that?” Mario insisted, his face flushing a little. “Besides, those coins won’t even fit in my wallet! There probably isn’t an exchange rate or anything here for ‘em. Just my luck.”

“I thought as much.” She placed a fingertip to her pursed lips, tapping lightly as she pondered. “What about a house?”

“A whole house!?” Mario nearly choked on the air. “For free?”

Peach gave him an odd look and a shrug, as though it was perfectly reasonable in her world to offer someone she’d just met a few days ago real estate with absolutely no strings attached. “Why not? You and Luigi are always going to be known as heroes in the Mushroom Kingdom, you do realize. It's the least we could do. But…” She thought in silence for a moment longer and then smiled, the curve of it a little heavier, more subdued. “A house doesn’t do much if no one will be living in it, huh?”

Mario considered that. Across the sewer room, the black of the warp pipe’s insides spread out behind Peach, vast and unending. “That’s…yeah, that’s true,” he said, his shoulders sinking a bit. “For now, don’t worry about doing anything for us, all right?” He swallowed around a strange, new lump in his throat. “Before anything else happens, I just really need to make sure my family’s all right.”

Peach nodded. “And I need to make sure mine is too,” she said, voice warm with understanding.

She shot a meaningful glance over Mario’s head, and he followed her gaze to where Toad and Luigi were sitting off to the side. Toad was excitedly talking, making big, bombastic gestures with his pan as though he was reenacting something. Luigi, for his part, looked a little bewildered but interested, following along as best as he could manage with lots of nodding. The strain in Mario’s chest eased.

“But you’ll both visit before too long, right?” Peach brought his attention back to her, her tone pointed. “There’s still plenty of beautiful places to see in our world. We barely scratched the surface! But we can start with a nice cup of tea in the castle, of course.”

Mario couldn’t help but smile widely. “Definitely,” he said. “And besides, I already made a promise to DK before he headed back. Me and my “stupid overalls” have to give him a rematch at some point. C’mon, how can I pass up a chance to kick his furry butt all over again?”

“And I want to come back and visit this world again too!” She added excitedly. “I want to know more about the bowling we saw, and video games, and — what did you call that one thing? A calzone? — and well, everything!”

Mario laughed outright. “Sure, come back anytime! Luigi and me know allll the best spots in Brooklyn like the backs of our hands. With us, you’ll never have a bad time, guaranteed.”

Some bright, delighted mischief flashed in Peach’s eyes. “And besides,” she said, “your mom said she would show me some of your baby pictures next time. I have to see that because I can’t imagine you without a mustache, honestly. It just doesn’t seem possible.”

Mario’s laughter got less boisterous and much more strained in a big hurry. “Right, right,” he said, voice cracking. “Gotta remember to, heh, burn some of those before then.”

“Don’t you dare!”

With more than a little reluctance, she waved over at Toad, signaling that it was time for them to say goodbye.

“I’ve got to get out of this wedding dress already,” she joked, holding up the skirt so Mario could clearly see all the tears and scorch-marks and dark staining, all intermingled with white and glittering pink. On the top, she was wearing a new, light pink “I LOVE NY” shirt from a cheap souvenir store; Luigi had actually been the one to get it for her, having noticed that she was spending a lot of time standing out in the sun with her shoulders uncovered. At some point along the way, she'd also tied up her blonde hair in a messy ponytail to keep it out of the way. “What a disaster, huh?”

Mario honestly thought that she looked beautiful. But there was no way he could say that, and he also didn’t want to agree because that sounded rude. Thankfully, he had only had a few more seconds of mounting internal panic left to go on that subject before Toad and Luigi came over.

“Your brother’s just as cool as you are, Mario!” Toad brightly announced out of the blue, which in turn made Luigi jolt and blush behind him. “But I should have guessed! You guys are the SUPER Mario Brothers, after all!”

“Hey, I coulda told you that a lot sooner!” Mario grabbed Luigi around the middle with one arm and squeezed tight, enough to make his brother wriggle with a hoarse, surprised laugh. “He’s always got my back!”

“Hey, hey, I’m flattered, but there’s no way I’m as cool as Mario,” Luigi insisted, grabbing and squeezing Mario right back, playfully poking at his stomach. “Are ya kidding? This is the best guy in the world, c’mon! No contest!”

"You c'mon! Who came up with using a manhole cover as a shield out of the blue, huh?”

Luigi blinked a few times and then ducked his head down with a big, bashful grin. “Okay, maybe that was me.”

“Exactly.” He smushed his brother’s cap, ruffling his hair underneath. “What were you guys talking about, anyway?”

“Ohohoho, wouldn’t you like to know,” Toad insisted right away with a thick air of secrecy. He mimed locking his mouth with a key and then tossing it away, winking in Luigi's direction. “No need to be jealous, Mario. I can have two best friends.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mario replied dryly.

“It was no big deal, r-really!” Luigi backed Toad up, a little too loudly. His eyes looked somewhat glassy, as though he was teetering on the verge of tears, but when Mario met his gaze full-on, worried all of a sudden, his brother smiled back, big and sincere and seemingly very happy. “We’re all good! Better than good! We’re great!”

Peach stepped forward, then. “You really made a difference when it counted most, Luigi,” she said warmly, taking one of his hands in her own and patting it. “Thank you again for that. I know you didn’t see the best our world has to offer, but I hope you’ll give us another chance soon enough.”

Luigi, having stiffened a little at her touch out of sheer surprise, relaxed again. “Of course, Peach — I mean, Princess Peach. Your highness? Ma’am!” He gave her a salute with the other hand, for some reason. “I, uh, definitely appreciate it.”

She let go of him and reached for Mario’s hand in turn. Out of the blue, he thought about kissing the back of it — she was a princess, right? Wasn’t that what people did in all the fairytale books? — but that was a silly idea, stupid enough to make the back of his neck burn from embarrassment. Instead, he simply held onto her tight for a long moment, reflecting her sweet smile back at her, his heart pleasantly fluttering.

Further down, Toad grabbed one of Mario’s legs and one of Luigi’s legs in both arms and hugged them fiercely at the same time, sniffling a little. They gave his head a few soft pats in return (and winced when he loudly blew his nose into their overalls).

“See you around, Mustache,” Peach said softly. She took a small step backwards towards the pipe but didn’t let go of him, their arms stretching out further. “And don’t forget what we talked about,” she added after a beat, delicate, maybe even the tiniest bit hopeful. “What I offered…it’s always on the table, if you ever do decide you want it.”

“I won’t forget,” he said in return, softer too. “Stay safe.”

She squeezed his hand one last time, and then she and Toad were gone. The warp pipe’s signature sound bounced off the impossibly high walls of the room they were in until it was just a tiny echo. Mario took a deep breath. He turned to find Luigi beaming at him, eyebrows raised high and wiggling a little at the ends.

"Shut up," he sighed.

“What!? I didn’t even say anything!” Luigi insisted, even as he continued to grin.

“Yes, you did. I can read your mind.” Even Mario’s sternest do NOT go there, I’m serious look could never do much when Luigi was ready to do some ruthless teasing, but he tried it anyway as they started to trudge towards the stairwell at a much slower pace then when they’d first come down it. When had he started to feel so tired? A big yawn fought its way up his throat before he could continue. “I just met her! We’re friends. That’s all there is to it, thank you and goodnight.”

“Look, you can't prove a thing, but if I was saying something, well, I'd start with the way she was looking at you.” Luigi whistled. Mario pulled down the brim of his cap, if only to hide the sudden warmth creeping into his face a little better. “She certainly seems like a princess with good taste, y’know?”

“All right, all right. Ya done?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not! She’s already got a dress too, which is really convenient. After all, weddings are expensive—”

“Stop, Lu. You better not breathe a word of this back home! Cause you’re gonna get Ma and Dad all riled up too and then I’ll never hear the end of it."

“Are ya serious!? Oh, my poor, sweet, naïve Mario. They already smelled the blood in the water at least five hours back. They were talking about little blonde grandkids when you were in the bathroom and everything.”

At least the long trek ahead of them out of the sewers would give Mario time for his face to cool down to a normal temperature again. “Great, great, just what I need,” he grumbled. “Now I gotta find a princess for you to get the heat off me.”

“W-What!?” Luigi sputtered. “I mean, I wish. But a kingdom only has one princess, right? And you’re the lucky guy.”

“There wasn’t just one kingdom,” Mario mused. He was climbing the stairs by then, metal clanging with each step. “I betcha all the money I have that if I went looking around long enough over there, I could find a real cute royal out there who has a thing for the color green.”

He reached behind him to give Luigi’s shoulder a playful shove, only for his hand to meet nothing but air. Turning fully, he saw that his brother was moving a lot slower than he’d expected. He was still at the bottom of the stairs, clinging to the railing and blinking furiously, his gaze focused on nothing in particular.

“Luigi?” Mario asked hesitantly. “You good?”

Luigi perked up at that and gave a thumbs-up. “A-okay!” He chirped, starting to climb. “I just — whew. I’m a little, uh, dizzy. It feels like that crazy star hung around for a while, eh? Like, we weren’t super-powered anymore, but nothing hurt, and I still had tons of energy to do whatever I wanted. But now…”

“Yeah, I’m definitely feeling that too.” Mario realized it more clearly, his breathing already labored after only climbing one flight of stairs. The injuries weren’t back, thankfully, but he was aching all over, a new heaviness creeping into his bones more and more. Luigi was hurrying to catch up with him, moving unsteadily.

“Just go slow,” Mario called. “We’re not in a hurry. Be careful.”

It didn’t seem like Luigi heard him, still trying to talk as he climbed, huffing and puffing. “I mean, wow! We were running all over the place! We were fixing things! We were saving Brooklyn! But…huh. Something’s kinda weird.” His voice had dropped down into a mumble, so quiet and fast that Mario almost couldn’t understand him. “I’m having that pins-and-needles feeling, like my legs are asleep, but I’m still walking just fine. Right? Do I look normal walking? Be honest. I…I can’t tell.” He looked sleepy, and then he suddenly looked frightened, unfocused, as though he wasn’t even sure where he was at all. “Wait. Am I upside down? Mario…”

It happened so fast. With one last shuddery breath, Luigi’s eyes rolled back into his head. He started to fall backwards, about to topple down a nearly full flight of stairs.

Mario’s heart seized. “Luigi!”

He covered several steps in one desperate jump. Somehow, he managed to get one arm around his brother and pull him back with every last scrap of strength he had left, crushing their bodies together. The other arm, he wrenched over and around the railing blindly, worn metal scratching and squeaking against him painfully as he struggled to hold onto it. For a long, agonizing moment, the fight against gravity seemed like it was going to be too much to overcome, and Mario, teeth gritted, mentally prepared himself to turn them around in the air so he would take the brunt of the long fall. But miraculously, his shoes found enough purchase on the steps, and his aching grip lasted just long enough for Mario to pull their combined weight back in the other direction. The two collapsed in a heap against the ascending stairs instead.

Mario’s gasping breaths seemed like the only sound in the world, the echoes bouncing wildly all around.

“Luigi,” he finally managed to wheeze — quiet at first, then again, much louder. As gently and carefully as he could manage, he scooted up into a sitting position and turned his brother over onto his back, cradling him. He was still out cold. Mario patted his face. “Hey, Luigi. Come on, Lu, wake up for me, all right? I’m here. I’ve gotcha.” He patted a little harder, steadfastly ignoring the way his hands were trembling at that point. Every second passing with no change stretched on, an eternity and then some. “You’re all right, everything’s all right. Come on, Luigi, snap out of it…”

Up close, Luigi looked extremely pale, sweat beaded along the line of his cap. How had Mario not noticed that before? He’d been too caught up with all the cleanup efforts, too distracted by Peach and Toad and the thought of that hypothetical house. How could he not see that Luigi was starting to struggle? What kind of brother was he?

The kind that does something really, REALLY stupid because of pride or "destiny" or whatever you wanna call it. The kind that not only drags his brother down with him to do the stupid thing, but almost gets him killed because of it.

Mario's shoulders sagged. He gripped Luigi tighter, pressing his little brother's face close to the crook of his neck, if only to try and desperately ground himself in the knowledge that he could feel him breathing still, at least. Their injuries were gone, it was true, but for Mario, it was suddenly like the star had just shifted the pain around instead. He could feel it pressing up from under his skin, a deep well that was ready to split him open all the way through if he let it.

It no longer seemed like he'd just been in a magical world on a whirlwind adventure, or that he'd defeated a spiked turtle monster with anger issues and saved Brooklyn in a glorious, technicolor blur. Now, he was just a small, ordinary man in a dark sewer room underground, exhausted and terrified and unable to help the person he loved most.

All of a sudden, Luigi jolted under his hands. “Noooo more flambé for me, thankyouverymuch, I’m-a good!” He shouted, the words slurred together to the point of being nearly unintelligible. With a handful of slow, very confused blinks, he finally managed to focus on Mario’s extremely relieved face overhead. “Waaaaaaait. Whuh happen?”

Mario bundled up all those sharp, aching feelings behind a new wall and regathered himself. No matter what, he was going to stay strong, stay in control. He needed to do that for Luigi’s sake. There was no other choice. “You went down like a big sack of bricks, ya lug,” he tried to joke, even as his voice cracked badly on the last word. “Nearly gave me a heart attack! Are you okay?”

Luigi considered this information, eyes unclouding bit by bit. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, soft, a little embarrassed. “Y-Yeah, I think I’m good. I, uh, don’t really know what happened there! It was like…it all just hit me at once, I guess.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Mario worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “When’s the last time you slept, bro?”

Discomfort crept into Luigi’s expression at that. He looked away from Mario, not able to meet his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. “Well, I dunno if I — I was wandering around for a while, and then I couldn’t really sleep in that cage, y’know? All that lava made the metal real hot, so I had to keep moving to not get burned, and you have no idea how hard it is to nod off when there’s a creepy star laughing its head — body? — head off in the next cage over, and, and...well, I’m sure I got an hour here and there,” he scoffed lightheartedly, waving off the thought with a wobbly sweep of his hand through the air. “Nothing worse than those all-nighters in high school!”

“You almost had a nervous breakdown because of those all-nighters,” Mario said. His grip on Luigi’s shoulder tightened, fingers winding snug in the green material. “And…what about food? Water? We’ve been go-go-go all day. I didn’t even think about…”

A brand-new sense of dawning horror came over Mario, sudden enough that he trailed off. He couldn't remember them ever taking a break, even sitting down in the shade for a few minutes. There'd just been so much to do, so many people in need of help, and the two of them had felt so good, laughing and joking and keeping up with no problems whatsoever. The time had flown by. But now...

“Pfft, who needs it?” Luigi said, extremely casually and extremely unconvincingly. He coughed, closing his eyes again for a long moment, resting his cheek sleepily against Mario’s chest. “Hmm. A guard gave me some sips a couple of times? And there was some weird bread. I think it was bread. Who even knows? It was stale like croutons. Not like the really good garlic ones Ma makes, though. These were like…like erasers or something. Blech.”

A few sips of water and some "bread." A couple of hours of sleep, if that. Luigi was on his own, scared and struggling and eventually imprisoned in a maniac’s floating lava airship, for over two full days.

“Well, no wonder you passed out,” Mario sighed, rough and very quiet. He had to talk like that — any louder, and his voice was going to become too unwieldy. It already felt like someone had promptly stuffed his heart into a blender and cranked it up to the highest setting. “Speaking of Ma, she’s probably got a full spread out by now. I’m gonna get you home, you’re gonna eat until you pop, and,” he had to pause for a moment to swallow, his throat hurting, “and then you’re gonna sleep until you can’t anymore, okay? That’s what we’re doing.”

Luigi sighed too, his smile resurfacing. “Man, that sounds like heaven. What are we waiting for?” He started to sit up with newfound determination, only for the dizzying sight of the stairs descending down into the dark beneath them to make his motions distinctly more rubbery again in a hurry. He sunk back into Mario’s arms, breathing faster, eyes closed again.

“Just, uh, one more minute," he half-wheezed. "Nothing to worry about, I’m getting up right now, I swear, but…is it just me or is it really, really hot down here? Those burns I had, they’re all gone, which is great, but I can still kindaaaa feel them? Is that a medical thing? Or am I freaking out? Because, heh, it’s starting to feel like I might be freaking out, and not to toot my own horn but some might consider me an expert when it comes to the signs of freaking out—”

“Just breathe, Lu,” Mario interjected, gently but firmly, the way he always did when Luigi got lost in a thought process that wasn’t going to lead him anywhere good in a hurry. “We can wait as long as ya need. No rush at all.”

Mario pressed back the brim of Luigi’s cap so he could brush his hairline soothingly, wipe away the sweat. He leaned down, gathering Luigi close enough to bump their foreheads together so they could breathe in slow, deep unison. He’d done that little motion to Luigi their whole lives, an unspoken shorthand that only they understood. When his little brother was scared or anxious, touching foreheads was a way to make the world smaller, less overwhelming, if only for a few seconds. It was an easy way to say: who cares about any of that? Focus on me instead. It’s just the two of us. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.

(And he’d tried, hadn’t he? He tried, and he hadn’t been good enough this time, when it mattered most. Luigi had suffered because he couldn’t hold on tightly enough. Because he hadn’t fought harder, been smarter, pushed to move faster throughout every part of the trip. And at the end when he’d finally found his brother? It had just been dumb luck, really. He’d squinted up at all the cages at the right time through the haze of the lava heat, breathless from the climb and still half-focused on trying to stay in the air without plummeting, and he’d seen his brother fall, and his body had just reacted without any thought, desperation and adrenaline screaming in his veins, the only word in his head echoing out as faster, faster, FASTER. And if one little thing had gone differently — if he hadn’t found that specific powerup, if he hadn’t figured out how to use it properly, if he'd been looking anywhere else, if he’d misjudged the speed or simply missed his grab entirely — then that would have been it, and it would have been all his fault. The sight felt seared into Mario’s head, something he could see whether his eyes were open or closed. He saw Luigi tumbling in the air, terrified and yelling and out of control, hurtling towards the lava at full speed. Only this time, he couldn’t reach him, he couldn’t move at all, he could only watch helplessly and in horror as he—)

“Mario?” Luigi asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Mario jolted back into the moment. He was breathing too hard, too fast; a tremor ran through him, bone-deep. Luigi was holding one of his arms, his eyes big and shining with newfound worry.

Mario smiled reassuringly for him, as easy and unthinking as a reflex. He took Luigi’s hand and wedged his fingers through his with a tight squeeze, resolving not to let go again until they were safely at home. That awful drowning feeling was rippling all through him, but he could keep his head above it if he focused hard enough, if he refused to let it sneak up on him again. He could do that. He would do that, no matter what it took.

With a slew of careful, slow-going movements, the two brothers finally stood up together on the stairs.

“Don’t worry about me,” Mario said, and turned to lead the way. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here."

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #super mario bros #mario and luigi #mareach #super mario bros movie #cherrysip fic #super mario bros movie spoilers #a succinct summary of this part: things are going great! and then things are going not so great :(#this feels very derivative of other people's fics but hey that's what happens when you take over a month to delve into your own #post-movie scenario - everyone's done most of the common things before lololol. I GOTTA JUST BE OKAY WITH THAT #anyway much MUCH more to come as soon as i can make it happen! thank you for reading - i appreciate you all!#(also i always hate having to say it but please do not tag this as ship!!! just don't!!!)

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